Last night I attended a work event in New York City. I was a finalist to win $70,000. I was one of the 4 finalists out of 12, but in the end, my bank account will remain the same.
It was a nice evening, but the dinner majored on drinks and minored on food. Each time I would walk up to the bar thinking I should switch to water or selzer, the bartender would hand me another Tito’s and lemonade. Stunned, I would just take it. And then end up drinking it.
About 10:00 PM, I thought maybe I had had enough vodka. I thought of staying to be sociable, but the few people I spoke to told me they staying to “take advantage of the free alcohol.” I didn’t think that was a good choice seeing as their speech was already slurred so I left.
On the way back to the hotel I decided to go into the 7-11 on the corner to get some water. I usually carry motrin with me but in my rush for my train that afternoon I forgot quite a few things I normally traveled with. I bought a little travel size box of Advil. I figured it couldn’t hurt to fend off the potential headache in the morning due to my very efficient bartender. I wanted to take some “prophylacticly.” (I love that word for some reason).
I got to my room and opened the box. There were two little packets in it. I grabbed one. I tried to open it with no success. I looked closer. There was a dotted line with an arrow going through it. I tried bending at the line, ripping it, folding it, stabbing it, twisting it and biting it. I could not get it opened. I was starting to sweat. I thought about giving up but I wasn’t going to let this little packet get the best of me.
A scissors would probably have helped, but everyone knows you can’t travel with scissors. They will take them at security. So, even though I was traveling by train and not air, I did not even think to travel with scissors.
I got madder and madder, remembering the unopened pouch of “Sensual Strut” body wash that was lying on the floor of my shower at home, unopened. Again, a scissors would have done the trick, but who thinks of bringing one into the shower? That pouch was indeed “tamper proof” and had never been used. It had left it on the floor of my shower and it stared at me, daring me to try again. I never had.
But tonight I would not lose. I decide to try the second pouch. But no luck. I finally had an idea. I searched in my bag for my keys. I found the biggest key and tried stabbing the damn pouch. After 5 tries I almost gave up. On the 6th, though, I finally broke through the “tamper-proof” barrier. I stuck my finger in the little hole pulled and pulled until I got it big enough to get the pills out.
“Success,” I thought. I swallowed the two pills with one of my very large “buy 2 for the price of 1” bottles of water.
But why should this be so hard? Who are we trying to keep out of the pouch? It’s already inside a glued shut box. Is it the bad people, innocent children, or the person who actually wants to take the thing?
Whose job is it to come up with these things? Do they ever try to use it themselves? The questions continued in my mind until I finally exhausted myself into sleep………
And now it’s the next morning. I’m on the train going home and staring at the second pouch. It couldn’t really have been that hard. Maybe it was just the vodka. Just for kicks and giggles I just tried to open it, thinking it might be easier in the daylight.
Well, nothing changed. It still didn’t open. Oh well.
Maybe they should replace “tamper proof” with “use proof.”