I like those Dyson hand dryers. I like those Xtreme Air ones as well. The reason I like them? It’s not so much the user experience or the design (although those Dysons are rather sexy for a sanitary machine) but more the fact that they actually do the job they are built for.
And about 99% of the hand dryers I encounter in my everyday travels do not.
Why do these things even exist? A machine designed and built expressly for the purpose of removing moisture quickly and efficiently from your hand and yet you’re still standing there after a full minute of enduring its hopeless attempts at evaporating the dampness from your palms using a pathetic fart of warm air that’s akin to being breathed on by an asthmatic Labrador. Eventually you sigh in disgust, shake the excess water from your hands and search in vain for a paper towel before drying your dripping appendages on your trousers. WHY HAS THIS HAPPENED?!
When it came off the production line for the first time, didn’t anyone think to test the damn thing? Didn’t they feel it appropriate to install at least a prototype in the office bathroom and see how effective it was?? Because if they had, I guarantee at least one employee might have piped up and offered the accurate if unpopular verdict that the company’s new hand dryer wasn’t very good at, you know, drying hands.
But say they didn’t care. Or the tyrannical genius behind all the company’s products would have fired anyone who dared question the quality of their designs, and so everyone kept quiet. What about the service station custodians and pub owners that then went and bought the damn things?! Didn’t they test them? Ever heard of ‘Try before you buy’? I mean, when investing in a range of no-doubt expensive apparatus for your facilities, don’t you do a little research and make sure the damn things actually do a decent job? A cursory 30-second test drive would surely uncover the shocking revelation that these brand spanking new hand dryers don’t actually dry your hands. And that, for me, would be a deal breaker.
But no – nobody did that. And now I’m stood in the toilets wondering whether it’s worth standing here another 5 minutes under the tepid waft of an apparatus clearly not fit for purpose, or to wipe my hands on my beige trousers and risk looking like I’ve had a urinary accident.