I Am Sometimes A Ninja

Last night I had the rare opportunity to have an actual date with my wife.
Gwynyth had a school function with a bunch of friends and bad food (like she likes), so Shana and I went to dinner.
The place we chose was less kid-friendly than our normal places and it was a nice change, though we missed her.
Between the order and the food's arrival, I visited the restroom.
As I was washing my hands, I noticed that the towel dispenser was one of those automatic, motion-sensing jobs and cursed inwardly.
After drying my hands on my slacks, I returned to our table.
I must have been visibly agitated, since Shana asked me what happened.
I told her what type of towel dispenser it was, thinking that would explain everything. It did not.
"You know those never work," I explained further.
She smiled at me and since it was the smile which means I've said something insane, I had to question.
"You can get towels out of those?"
She could. She apparently always does. Further, I have to assume, given this data point coupled with the fact that I've been seeing these things for years, that her situation is the baseline.
Rather than question the waitstaff as to their own abilities to get paper towels (or for that matter hot air) from restroom motion-sensing hand dryers, I rushed Shana through dinner to drag her around various restrooms to test my own abilities anew.
I cannot, ever, trigger a motion-sensing hand-drying device.
They do not see me.
I went as far in the book store to take the over off and flick the sensor directly behind the splash guard.
Nothing.
But another guy walked in after me and it dispensed eighteen inches of dry paper when he walked past on his way to the urinal.
I've tried moving my wet hands slowly and quickly, up and down, small circles and larger ones.
I'd grown to assume that this motion was the intent of the device, to cause enough air contact to dry the hands that way without need for hot air or towels.
It has always seemed ineffective, but I got used to it and just make a pass with my hands in front of those things before drying my hands on my pants.
Automatic doors see me just fine, as do motion lights.
This phenomenon seems to be just restricted to hand dryers.
Unless I can find a museum guarded entirely by air blowers and towel dispensers, there is no opportunity for profit I can divine from my . . . condition.
But I have to ask now, since the internets are always the best place to have restroom-related questions answered, is there anyone else who is invisible to these devices?