Packaging

I was having a nice day where nothing was annoying me. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. Then I decided to cook tea.

OPEN HERE was written on a corner of the plastic box, with an arrow handily pointing to the here I should open.

I attempted to open it there. No luck.

I attempted to open every single corner of the damned box without getting any closer to its contents.

“You’ll not beat me, you little plasticky sod,” I shouted as I grabbed a knife from the drawer and attempted to plunge it through what appeared to be a thin layer of a clingfilm-like substance on the top of the box.

The knife just bounced off it.

Was the box the Batfink of food containers? Was the top its shield of steel?

No, of course not. It’s just that packaging manufacturers are sadistic bastards.

It happens every time you open anything. TEAR ALONG THE DOTTED LINE. You do just that, only to find that the tearing suddenly veers alarmingly away from the line and before you know it the cereal box is torn all down the side and the kitchen worktop is covered with small pieces of sugary goodness.

And drink cartons. Why are they so complicated?

Several easy to follow steps to open them to create a nice pourable spout. Fold this, fold that, fold it the other way again and voila, you can now pour yourself a lovely glass of your favourite beverage. Except you can’t because you’ve done it wrong.

You begin to pour and discover that the fiendish carton wants to pour its contents from the side of the spout, due to an imperfection caused by your lack of origami skills. Now half of the juice is on the table, a magnet for wasps and a slap in the face for your tastebuds.

It’s only a matter of time before somebody comes up with a TV programme where they secretly film people in their kitchens trying to open various food and drink packages with “hilarious” results.

In fact I might send the idea to Channel 4, in an impenetrable envelope with OPEN HERE written in one corner.