vv 6-22

Keeping It Under Wraps
By: Susan Goldfein / Susan’s Unfiltered Wit
I
’m standing over my kitchen counter which
currently looks like a setting for a horror movie.
Lined up in medical precision are two
screwdrivers, (flathead and Phillips) a pair of
sharp scissors, a Swiss army knife,
an electric drill, and a box cutter. My
hands are gloved and my eyes are
goggled to protect against personal
injury.
I’m aware that what I’ve described
above conjures images of a serial
killer’s basement, but I assure you I
haven’t killed anyone recently. I’m
merely preparing to release my newly
purchased computer accessory from
yet another hard plastic blister pack!
Okay, I admit to some exaggeration
in discussing my tool line-up, but I
know I’m not alone when it comes
to feelings of frustration and anger
caused by the inability to open a heat-sealed package fused together by
what seems like 200 tons of pressure.
I’m quite convinced the blister pack, and its first cousin, the clam shell,
was invented by an insomniac sadist who stayed awake at night figuring
out the best way to send as many people as possible to the emergency
room.
In fact, I’m not at all certain that
the need to replace my left shoulder
didn’t stem from trying to unseal
the package holding a new pair of
scissors, which I bought because I
ruined the last pair trying to open a
package!
The desire to eventually smash
the unopened package with a
sledgehammer is indeed universal.
In 2003, a British newspaper
actually coined a phrase to describe
the phenomenon. It’s called Wrap
Rage.
Wrap Rage, unfortunately, is not
limited to blister packs and clam
shells. Cursing can also be easily induced by other types of packaging
as well.
Have you ever bought a bag of deliciously tempting cookies? You’re
salivating as you try to open the bag from the corner that says, “Tear
here.”
Five minutes later you’re reaching for the meat cleaver, or deciding the
unopened package is for the best. You really do need to lose some weight.
Cardboard boxes, friendly as they might look, also present a challenge.
My latest box of oatmeal directed me to a bit of perforation that said,
“Push here to open.”
My best efforts and some very foul language only served to mangle the
box. I opted for a piece of toast.
I wonder, on my next birthday will I still be able to handle child-proof
bottle caps? Is it too much to ask the pharmacy to have a section of the
store devoted to people who no longer have toddlers at home?
Stiff plastic wrapping around jars is another bugaboo. While I
appreciate that the manufacturer is trying to assure me that the product
has not been tampered with, I’d be more appreciative if he would include
a gift certificate for a manicure to mend the fingernail I split trying to
reach the spaghetti sauce.
Or at the very least, a Band Aid.
So next time you’re expending all your energy trying to open a package
containing an energy saving light bulb, remember, you’re not alone.
You’re simply another victim of the sadistic insomniac. So please feel free
to throw a temper tantrum.
You’ve earned it.
50
June 2022
Susan Goldfein’s newest book, How to Complain When There’s
Nothing to Complain About, is available at Amazon.com,
BN.com, Read her blog at: www.SusansUnfilteredWit.com. Email
Susan: SusanGoldfein@aol.com.