Yesterday I tore into a bag of Mission tortilla strips only to find that the bag wouldn’t open.
Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be a problem. But this was no ordinary bag of tortilla chips, my friends. In bold letters at the top of the bag, complete with two dainty finger icons, were the words, “Easy-open bag.”
Those words taunted me as I struggled to first partition the thick paper at the top of the bag, which was sturdily glued together. When I finally pried it open, I was met by an inner plastic lining that had no seam.
Now, if the bag wasn’t busy mocking me with how easy it was to open, this wouldn’t be an issue. But I’m sitting there struggling with the bag, thinking of all the people out there who found the bag easy to open in Mission’s market testing. Who are these people who, after being presented with the bag and a short survey, checked the “easy” box under “opening the bag”?
Consider the opposite scenario: What if Mission had decided to print “fairly difficult to open” at the top of the bag? It would have reset my expectations of the bag-opening experience. If I found it easy to open, I’d consider myself a super hero. If I struggled with it, no problem–it says so right on the bag that people have a hard time opening it.
Finally, my dignity barely intact, I managed to pierce the inner lining and get through to the chips. Easy to open? Not so much. But I clearly haven’t let it haunt me for the last 24 hours. I’ve moved on to bigger and better things, like jars of pickles or cat toys sealed in thick plastic.
Have you ever experienced this “easy-open” battle? Did you succeed where others have failed?