Friday, November 16, 2007

Hate: Tupperware

See, this is how twisted my little life is. I am tormented by Tupperware. Brightly (gaily?) colored, innocuous, inanimate plastic bowls have me all in a lather. It's no wonder I drink so much....

One would think that there is nothing to hate about Tupperware. One would think that Mr. Tupper was really on to something when he invented those plastic, re-usable containers to hold last night's meatloaf, wouldn't one? Well, I'm here to tell you that one would be wrong to think that. If one had any sense at all, one would come to the conclusion, like I have, that Mr. Tupper has invented something so evil and diabolical that dogs around the globe are cursing Mr. Tupper's name for a lack of table scraps.

Let me explain my hatred.

My biggest beef with the whole concept is that only a small percentage of Tupperware actually gets used. According to no research whatsoever, only 6.8% of all Tupperware containers ever get used for anything. And I'm not just talking about for storing the leftover lasagna that no one will ever eat. I'm also talking about using it for catching that last little bit of water stuck in the drain pipe when you are cleaning out the hairball in the trap under the sink. I'm talking about not even being used to stash away the kids' Legos that hurt so friggin' bad when you step on them in the middle of the night. The biggest reason for not being used (again, based on pure conjecture on my part) is because you can't buy just one of these damn things. You have to buy a combo pack consisting of twelve different shapes and sizes. You only need one but The Man is forcing you to buy more than you need! Damn him and his marketing degree!!

More hatred comes from the mis-match between lids and containers. You think losing one sock is bad? I challenge you to match up all the Tupper-lids with all the Tupper-containers in your cupboard. It can't be done. For that matter, I challenge you to not get klunked in the head when you open your Tupper-cupboard and all the Tupper-pieces fall out on top of you like the ping pong balls used to do to Mr. Greenjeans on Captain Kangaroo. If you tell me that all of your various Tupper-pieces are neatly organized, I'll call you a dirty liar and never speak to you again.

The problem is compounded because there are some other bastards out there who have gotten onto the bandwagon and are selling competing brands to Tupperware. I'm not going to dignify them by mentioning their names here but, just like Kleenex being synonymous with "facial tissue", they will never be known as anything other than Tupperware.

And then the compounding is compounded because the pseudo-Tupperware doesn't "mate" with the real stuff. Got an off-brand container? Don't try to force the real Tupper-lid onto it -it just ain't gonna fit no matter how many times you kind of run your thumb around the edge trying to make it snap on there. So now I have 48 containers of various sizes and 57 lids of various sizes and none of those blasted pieces fit together and all I'm trying to do is get a stool sample from the dog to take to the vet! What am I going to do - walk in to the vet's office with a mis-matched lid/container combo that allows the whole waiting room to enjoy the aroma of Fido's little present? I don't think so! Let me have a little dignity in my life!

Let's be honest here, boys and girls. If you didn't eat the lima bean casserole last night, what are the chances that you will EVER eat it? If you feel like you need to Tupper-ize your leftovers out of guilt and because there are kids in Africa starving, just get over it. Throw the crap outside to the raccoons and squirrels if you aren't going to eat it. Before you call the ACLU or PETA or 60 Minutes on me, I'm not equating starving African kids with raccoons - I'm just saying that by the time those nasty lime beans make it to Ethiopia, they are going to be more heinous than they are now so don't lose any sleep over it. How many times have you wondered what that funky-ass smell was coming from the fridge only to open up a Tupperware container and find a brown, fuzzy substance the likes of which you haven't seen since you moved out of your college apartment? And isn't it easier to quickly put the cover back on and quickly throw the whole stinky mess away? Yes, I believe it is.

Even with the price of oil going up, you know darn well that the Tupper-people are making a boatload of money on this stuff. However, if we all join together and pledge to stop using all of the various Tupper-like products out there, the world will be a better place. We'll be swimming in cupboard space, the raccoons and squirrels will be well fed and our stress level from trying to match up square lids with round containers will go down to nothing. Lastly, and perhaps most important, we can stride with confidence into the vet's office holding Fido's stool sample in a Ziploc bag where it belongs.