Stick Up

There’s something to be said about the optimism of whoever it was that decided to put a resealable strip on a packet of chocolate.

It’s almost as if, by the addition of a vaguely sticky piece of paper, the chocolate manufacturers are saying “Look, I know you want to eat all of the lovely chocolate in this bag, but you can’t. It’s bad for you. We’ve worked out a portion. You should just take that out – let’s say it’s eight chocolates – and seal the bag up again. No, no, you can seal it now, we’ve put a special sticky strip on it. Look. I know. You would think that was a waste of money wouldn’t you?”

When Post-It Notes were invented, amongst all the important developments they made, one of the main things they focused on was to make the strength of the glue inversely proportional to the importance of the information written on the Post-It Note. To put that into layman’s terms if you wrote your name on a post-it and stuck it somewhere it would stay there indefinitely but if you wrote “For the love of all that is good, do not forget to turn on the containment field before you leave otherwise there will be a massive disaster of epic proportions” or something similar – maybe “Buy milk” – you’d find that it would the note would have the adhesive qualities of something that wasn’t particularly sticky. The note, no matter how many times you stuck it to your noticeboard, monitor or keyboard, would fall off eventually getting lost. The containment field wouldn’t be set before you left. And things would go really wrong. Or you’d have dry cereal. It can go both ways.

You would, on the other hand, have a piece of paper reminding you of your name glued to the same surface until the end of time.

The resealable strips on bags of chocolate use a similar type of glue. They are, initially, stuck to the packet with such ferocity that you probably don’t even know they’re there. Some of you reading this are probably thinking “wait, there’s a resealable strip on a bag of chocolate? When did that happen?” The idea is that you peel back a section of the strip, roll the bag down and put the strip over it. The strip holds the bag closed and keeps the chocolate inside fresh, ready to eat on another day. I know, another day. These people live in a dream world.

The thing is, though, the strips don’t really hold the bag closed. At some indeterminate point, usually a few minutes after you’ve folded the bag down, the strip will go “Well, that’s enough sticking for me. I’m going to ping off and let the bag open. Sorry. I tried my best. I really did.” The problem here is that your chocolate is now, potentially, exposed to the elements. It won’t retain the freshness that the sticky piece of paper offered you. So, out of the kindness of your heart and appreciation for fresh chocolate, you figure it’s best to eat the rest of the bag anyway.

I’m beginning to think it’s a cunning bit of reverse psychology by the chocolate people. They trick us into feeling bad about eating all the chocolate by providing a seal for the bag which then fails, forcing you to eat all the chocolate while it’s still fresh.

Devious, devious people.