Chirky

June 29, 2005

Dear S.C. Johnson & Son, Inc:

In a moment of desperation After talking to a grocery store employee, my husband
recently purchased your new SaranTM wrap because he was told it was the
stickiest and strongest available.

I realize that this wrap is both "Heavy Duty" and "Durable," which are both much
sought-after qualities in our household search for saran wrap.

However, these selling points do not redress the lack of sharp metal teeth used
to cut the wrap. Last night, I was very tired. As I cleaned the kitchen, I
realized that I needed to put an item in the refrigerator, covered. (Never mind
that I just now realized I have a lid for the bake ware I was using last night.)

I opened a new package of your saran wrap, unraveled it, and attempted several
times to cut it using the customary sharp metal teeth, from all different
angles. After failing this task miserably, I blinked several times because my
contacts had become dried out. This is how late it was, and how tired I was.

I ran my finger along the edges of the box in a lame attempt to find the teeth,
risking injury to my finger and perfect skin. "How interesting!" I exclaimed,
"They have child-proofed the box, so that kids won't hurt themselves while
cutting saran wrap." I don't know how often kids use saran wrap, or what the
statistics are for injuries. I am sure this is something you researched prior to
creating this new packaging. Saran wrap can be very dangerous. I know this
because my mother once broke her nose while tearing plastic wrap. Really, she
shouldn't have had to pull the wrap so forcefully!

I brought the box close to my face, despite my contacts, and inspected the
cardboard for signs of minute, shiny teeth. None. "This is stupid. This box has
no teeth." I stared at it blankly for thirty seconds, unable to think because I
had reached That Point in the evening, That Point wherein my brain had stopped
functioning. Thirty seconds to a person with a non-functioning brain is, like,
FOREVER.

I put the box down, grabbed the kitchen shears, and began hacking away at the
thin plastic. I was certain we had purchased a faulty box, and couldn't decide
whether I should return it right then or suffer. In my stupor of having reached
That Point, and mildly irritated, I decided on the latter. I condemned myself to
The Punishment of the Wrap with No Teeth. I would have to cut each piece of
saran wrap until we ran out and could buy more. Albeit, a different brand. With
teeth.

Then I saw it: an image on the box showed a "Slide 'n CutTM bar." How exciting!
A Slide 'n Cut! Is it as fun as a Slip 'n Slide? Oh, how I loved those when I
was younger! Do you remember those, Mr. Johnson? Perhaps your children or
grandchildren remember them?

Sadly, the Slide 'n Cut wasn't as fun. It required me to take the bar out of the
box, assemble it, and then use it. Who has time for this? Do people just sit
around, waiting for something to assemble? When I need saran wrap, I need it
NOW. Not twelve hours later, after I've had a full nights sleep, eaten a
wholesome breakfast with orange juice, and had time to read and comprehend the
instructions AND assemble the cutter. I want IMMEDIATE GRATIFICATION. I want
teeth ALREADY ATTACHED to the packaging.

Perhaps the employees who invented this were fresh from a long nights rest, or
alert from consuming several gallons of whiskey coffee. I would like to suggest
thoroughly exhausting them, and then asking them to develop new packaging. Using
this method, you are sure to hit a goldmine of simplicity, which involves as
little use of the brain as possible.

Also, I suggest firing your entire Marketing Department. The bonus 25% more wrap
does not compensate for my frustration. Also they apparently did not test the
packaging on sleep-deprived users before making the claim on the box in rather
large, bold red letters, "No Hassle."

Unfortunately yours,
Jes