I’ve been pack attacked
The Australian Consumer Association truly is a good friend of shoppers. Their hard copy and web-based journals under the banner “Choice” provide a multitude of detailed, relevant, timely and often intriguing assessments.
Currently, they are preparing a campaign on pack attacks. This is a newly-coined phrase that refers to those consumer goods that are sold in packaging that often defies nearly all reasonable attempts to actually get at the goods inside.
An example is plastic adhesive strips; otherwise known a BandAids. However, this generic term is actually trade marked so we should use the bland, wussy name. Anyway . . .
Have you tried to open one of these little bastards when part of you is dripping blood and your hands are moist because you’ve just tried to wash away germs to prevent infection? It is SO bloody frustrating! There appears never to be a problem if you just want to open one when it takes your fancy. But when there’s a need, forget it.
Toothbrushes are a bitch. They defy most rational efforts to get at the implement until your build-up of stomach acid creates halitosis that could kill a crowd at a rock festival. But give one to a young person and they open it with such blinding speed you can never tell how they actually did it. Aaagh!
Canned goods are often frustrating with those pop-up ring pulls. Most of the time, they work just fine but sometimes you nearly lose the first joint of your index finger. If nothing else it diminishes appetite.
Pizza sauce in small plastic tubs with peel-back adhesive foil seals is another pack attack that can cause brain snap. The tiniest hint of moisture on your fingers renders this task harder than trying to solve Rubik’s Cube blindfolded.
New men’s shirts are a massive pain. They have myriad pins that bloody-minded masochists in fourth-world sweat shops insert in a thousand places so that you inevitably put on the shirt only to find it a form of mediaeval torture that leaves noticeable red blood spots that need to be washed out immediately so that you have to put on an old shirt anyway.
Still we can be grateful that winemakers have finally surrendered to Stelvin caps instead of corks. The delay occasioned by having to pull the cork from a bottle for that first drink when you get home has condemned many of us to tears.
If anything has got up your nose seriously, Google the Australian Consumers Association and share your beef with them. They’re after photos of the offending items.