MY WAR AGAINST PACKAGING

We watch a lot of shows about murder. Between courtroom battles and watching Ducky dismember a corpse (NCIS), I’ve seen it all. People get convicted on blood evidence, even if they didn’t really do anything. I know how incriminating mere traces of a victim’s blood can make anyone look. Which is why I worry about packaging.

These days, Amazon offers you (sometimes, on some items) special packaging that you can open without a pneumatic drill and hacksaw. Unfortunately, this trend has yet to pass down to the people who made those little hanging blister packages. You know, the stuff you pull of racks in stores? Then spend half a day mutilating in an attempt to release whatever has been secured in it?

This evening, while making dinner, I nicked myself with a paring knife. My son and my husband both have been known to pull knives out of my hands and chop the veggies themselves because watching me using a knife made them too nervous to watch.

It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t bleed so much. This is ironic indeed because when I go for tests at the hospital, they can never find a vein or get any blood out of me. I have suggested I just bring a paring knives, slice open a finger and they can have more blood than they’ll know what to do with, but for some reason, they don’t find this nearly as funny as I do.

Anyway, I nicked myself cutting up some turkey sausages. It wasn’t a bad cut and if I hadn’t been in a hurry to get dinner fixed while simultaneously fighting with the cable company on the telephone, I might have put a band-aid onto my finger sooner. There would a lot less of my blood all throughout the kitchen. Not a gusher, mind you. Just a mere dribbler.

After I finally got the food cooking, I put the knife down and ended the phone call, still snarling at Charter. That was the moment when I realized my blood was everywhere I looked. One little nick and CSI would have a field day in our kitchen, proving conclusively that my dear husband is a murderer. Of course, someone else would have had to murder me, but from what we’ve seen on television, that shouldn’t be a problem. There are some towns in England where they have to bring new victims in by bus because so many get killed each week on TV serials.

If anything ever happens to me, they’ll find my blood everywhere. Garry will look guilty as hell.

Have you ever tried to get a couple of blister-packed pills out of their containers in the middle of the night? It says “press here” and you do, but all it does is stretch. The medication still out of reach and if you are unlucky, you have also successfully crushed it to powder in its  blister.

The hacking and hewing means I cut myself regularly, but I also damage the contents of packages in my frenzied attempts to extract whatever is in there. I used to use my box cutter to pry the back off my Blackberry to get to the battery. Taking the back off and removing the battery was the only way to reboot the phone, so I gave up and got an iPhone. I didn’t like the iPhone better, but at least I could stop prying the phone apart with a knife blade. Now I have another smart phone and you can’t open it at all, which is fine with me. At least I won’t need to battle my way into a battery compartment again.

I do not set out to do myself injury, but in the contest of me against packaging, packaging is  winning.

My blood everywhere I’ve ever opened a package. You’ll find blood on my computer, mouse, knives, tweezers and especially my beloved box cutter.

I keep my box cutter hidden lest someone try to take it away. You’ll never get my box cutter. Never!



Categories: Crime and Cops, Law, Legal Matters, Photography

Tags: , , , , ,

20 replies

  1. My box cutter is very special to me as well. Irreplaceable even, since Mecca did away with the model 10 years ago in favor of some shitty “safety cutter.” I always use a scissors on blister packs. The only people who seem to be able to open them by hand are thieves, who only go through the trouble because they fear there’s a security strip embedded inside. I cut myself from time to time at work, and undoubtedly my blood gets on the products occasionally. So traces of my DNA can be found all over the area. If something I stocked ends up in a house where a murder has been committed, I might be screwed…

    Like

  2. I think you touched a nerve here, Marilyn. We can all identify with this frustration.
    Leslie

    Liked by 1 person

  3. And finally, there ought to be a law against type smaller than 10 points. I have some stuff that I can’t read EVEN WITH A MAGNIFIER. Garry’s hearing aids have a serial number and even the audiologist couldn’t read it. It’s in maybe 2 pt type. Seriously? Can anyone read that?

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  4. A few years ago a Canadian news show did a piece on the insane concept of shrink wrapping. They had several items and asked folks to rate how easy/difficult it was to open them. The most difficult was … an opener for all you package opening needs!!

    Liked by 2 people

    • serrated steak knife. Works a treat on cardboard boxes, too. As a librarian friend said one day as he brandished a remarkably similar steak knife, “library school doesn’t teach you EVERYTHING”…

      I fully understand the idea of the oversized package for the undersized item with itty parts, to keep people from easily stealing the stuff, I just don’t like the fact that we have to pay for their piggishness.

      Liked by 1 person

      • And with medications especially, some of the “childproof” arrangements cannot be opened by anyone of any age. Garry really WAS ready to take ax to a bottle of nasal spray. I finally pried it off with a screwdriver, but it took TWO of us. Childproof? What kind of children ARE they?

        Liked by 1 person

    • Opening a simple DVD takes two knifes — at least. It’s ridiculous.

      Like

  5. Packaging and pill bottles… like the pills for the arthritis that I can’t open because of the arthritis …

    Liked by 1 person

    • Always a favorite of me, too. I have some childproof bottles that Garry was ready to attack with an ax. Seriously. I don’t know what they are thinking.

      Liked by 1 person

      • I’ve sawn the top off a few of the plastic ones because it was the only way ito the damned things.

        Liked by 1 person

          • Oh no, you have my sympathies entirely. 🙂 I even have a note in the drafts about the age-discrimination of child-proof packaging 😉

            Liked by 1 person

            • push down and turn. yep, Or the instructions (for older people, now) written white-on-white about lining up the damn near invisible white arrow with the OTHER white arrow so you can get your life saving meds out. My solution is to transfer the pills to a bottle with a screw top.
              You can also defeat the push down and turn on some containers by removing the clear plastic lining under the lid.

              What is funny, child proof packaging is a joke, since “push and turn” is just the way a small child opens bottles. So you give the meds to your four year old grandson to open for you.

              Bandaids. There you are, dripping across the floor from a flesh wound, and all the BandAids now have replaced the handy string with ‘tear here”. or ‘rip off the top” or some such. The last thing you need to do at that point is read the directions on how to get the bandaid out of the damn paper. And some companies now, in an effort to help the process along, gently attach one of the protective tabs to the paper, so you find yourself holding a partially exposed bandage and fumbling to get the other half off. oh, please.

              Liked by 1 person

  6. What a good chuckle to begin the day reading my ipad in bed, but I sympathize. I was even an emergency case for the doctor once splitting my thumb on a cutter from the kitchen machine: not too bad for a normal person, but that is relative. I am diabetic and one of the problems is that blood flow has a problem in coagulating. How annoying when peeling a potato and you cut yourself with the peeler. You wrap kitchen paper around your thumb, the blood soaks through the paper and you get a red potato hoping it doesn’t notice when the potato is cooked.

    Liked by 1 person

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