WC

Here's one of my favorite restrooms: Via Quadronno's. When I'm at my most neurotic, it's like a dream bathroom.

The paper towels are easily grabbable without making contact with any non–paper-towel surface; the doorknob doesn't even need to be turned (only the lock); you open that trash can's lid by stepping on a lever (that is out of frame); and all are arranged so close together that it is blissfully easy to open the door with a paper towel and then drop the paper towel in the garbage.

So then why does this ever happen?

I honestly don't get it—reminds me a little, tangentially, of this. Throwing your paper towel on top of the closed lid of a garbage can makes some sense in some deranged circumstances (e.g., someone terrified of germs wants to throw it away and there's no way of doing so properly without having to touch some surface and thus effectively undoing the handwashing that necessitated the paper towel in the first place), but who in the world can't be bothered to step on a lever? My guess is that people either don't understand how the thing works (morons) or don't care about anyone else and would just as happily—maybe even more happily—have someone else clean up after them (douchebags). The latter group is the sort that calmly drops gum wrappers on the ground when a garbage can is like one foot away.

Ah, well.