This is a laptop:
You may notice that both items share a similar clamshell-like construction. To access the contents of either the compact or the laptop, one must simply prize open the two halves of the object, and presto.
But look closely and you will see that there is one extremely confounding difference between these two items: the direction of the picture or text on the lid. Whereas the text on the makeup container is legible to the person opening the product, the text or picture on the laptop is right-side-up not to the user, but to those looking at the user. Presumably, this is so because other people see a person on a laptop and muse, "Wow! That is one sexy mofo on that laptop there. I would like to be as attractive as that person. I can do this by purchasing the same exact item that is making that person seem so desirable. If only I knew what company manufactured the device on which they are typing so magnificently, so sexily. Ah! Thank heavens the company has stamped the logo so cleverly on the lid that I might read it from across this coffee shop and make plans to procure one of my own. Before I know it, other people will be coveting me and my personal mobile computer! Thank heavens for capitalism! Bless us all!!"
Presumably, that is happening.
And that is why the text must be upside down to me when I am trying to open my laptop.
And this is why, after becoming accustomed to this idiosyncratic rule for getting at the heart of my laptop, I am consequently unable to get to the powder in the makeup compact. It is a sad tapestry of despair that is woven by my frustrated attempts to open either of these objets de l'enfer.
Nnnnggghh. Nnnnnngggghhh. Can't. Get. To. Blush. Am. Hideous.
Nnnnnggghh. Nnnnnngggghhhh. Am. Hideously. Ugly. Want. To. Watch. Netflix. Can't. Open. Laptop.
*collapse*
No comments:
Post a Comment