These Days

In these days of economic hardship, these days when I get numerous emails about the financial restructuring of my alma mater, and these days where Wal-Mart employees are trampled for opening the door on black Friday, I am flabbergasted (nearly) by the newest convenience in my office: motion sensor paper towel dispensers.
I'll put this in context. My office is in an old house. All the bathrooms are like the 1/2 bathroom in your grandma's four square; toilet, sink, soap, 12-sq. feet, oh, and a motion sensored paper towel dispenser. If you're not careful walking into the bathroom on the first floor, you will smack your face into the monstrosity protruding from the wall. On the second floor it blocks most of the mirror. In both it is impossible to enter or leave the room without triggering the LED light and hearing the screech of dispension. It seems to be saying, "I see you! Hope you washed your hands!"
My office mates consist of an elderly man on the second floor and a middle-aged woman on the first floor; I don't know either of their names. I'm confident they are hand washers from the casual interactions we've had, but probably dry up on their wool pants or the stack of paper towels that was sufficient in years past.
Lastly, these motion sensing paper towel dispensers cost between $65 and $75. Sure, $200 doesn't cover a whole lot in the world of higher education, but it would buy a few books for the library, supplies for the science labs, and a whole bunch of CFLs. If I had my way, we wouldn't even have the paper towels. Then we'd really save. But that's why I'm still sequestered on the third floor of an office building with three people and a squirrel named Arthur (who doesn't wash his hands, anyway).