Here at work, we have a single hand dryer in the men's room. There are 3 sinks, however. So they accept that there may be 3 people at once washing their hands but only one man is lucky enough to dry them. The strongest and fittest man, perhaps. Natural selection. Darwin would be proud.
Playing with this reality is not without its fun. I enjoy being a punk. There is a fun game I like to play. I go to wash my hands while there are other washers, then go dry my hands before them...and take my sweet time. I like to see how long it takes people to leave, wet-handed, in frustration. It's a sociological experiment.
The best though, is once they give up and go to the door, I stop drying my hands and leave with them. They get so confused. I can see the cogs in their heads working. "Should I return and dry my hands? Cross the entire floor of the men's room to get to the dryer? But in so doing, I would have to pass by that punk who was using the dryer, thereby admitting defeat." And sure enough, nobody ever comes back to dry their hands. Once they decided to leave the bathroom, hands unwashed, they never walk back to dry because that would mean admitting they were waiting for me. Hubris is a funny thing.