i’m sitting in the waiting lounge at my mini dealership, waiting about three hours for some work to get done on my car. mini coopers are sold by BMW, and the service dept is shared, so i’m surrounded by people who clearly have much more money than me (the elderly lady who just walked in is clearly wearing a $500 suit, a $200 silk scarf, and has had $1000s of dollars of cosmetic surgery, which, if it ever worked, clearly isn’t reaping an effective return on her investment at this moment). and it’s a really nice waiting area (with free wifi! and work stations, though i’m sitting on a couch). and the restroom i was just in — absolutely lovely and perfectly clean.
there was a motion-senser on the light. when i walked into the restroom, the lights cheerily popped on, sensing my presence (“hi! i know you’re here! and i welcome you to this lovely restroom!”). so i took up my temporary residence and started working on beating my score on the game on my cell phone.
after a couple minutes, the lights turned off (the senser was saying, wrong-headedly: “i’m sorry you’ve chosen to leave my lovely space. i must now shut down to conserve two or three more pennies to add to the millions we’ve gotten out of these beemer owners. hope you come back soon!”). the senser was on a wall on the other side of the stall wall. i waved, hoping i’d catch the ever-alert eye of the senser. no luck. i thought, “i might as well be in the restroom at YS, where jay thinks it’s so funny to turn the lights off on me.”
i’ll spare you the rest of the story. but let’s just say that light switch motion-sensers in restrooms with stalls are a less-than-perfect idea.