I have a grievance with sensor-activated toilets. Sure, I could complain about how they waste water, but I'm not going to. My complaint is of a more personal nature. Here's a scenario to describe my feelings.
I'm sitting on a public toilet, defecating. I think I'm finished, so I wipe my nether regions before standing up. I stand up, realizing that I don't feel quite as fresh as I would like to feel. I begin to think:
"Hmm, still not right. Maybe I'd better wipe--"
FROOSH! The sensor has tripped and the toilet has flushed, delivering the stinky nuggets from my sight. Part of me is glad they're gone, but part of me wonders: Wasn't that really my decision to make--to flush the toilet? In one supposedly helpful gesture, the toilet invalidates me, tells me that it knows best. It's as if the toilet is saying, "Oh, no--we're done here. Pull up your pants and get out." But still, I must finish my wiping, all the while fixated on the thought that I've worn out my welcome.
Sensor-activated toilets would work well in an ideal world, a world of one-wipe anuses. While that is a noble (and, frankly, the highest) goal that humanity can strive for, we're not quite there yet, so maybe we should forsake germaphobia for a little while and flush for ourselves.
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