HUMOR

Feeling (Amazon) Boxed In

If you need me, I’ll be judging people by their recyclables.

Photo by Luku Muffin on Unsplash

I still remember the day when I realized that, somewhere, somehow, there was a factory that made boxes.

And I’m not talking about as a child. I’m talking about, like, yesterday.

It’s as if somebody had told me there was an air factory. A place where they make air.

“That’s ridiculous,” I would say. “You don’t make air. It just is.”

It’s the same with cardboard boxes. Boxes just are.

Boxes come into being by way of spontaneous generation, like starfish, or those floss picks you see on the ground literally everywhere you go.

Top of Mount Everest? Floss pick.

Bottom of the Mariana Trench? Floss pick.

The depths of the Amazonian rain forest where indigenous tribes have yet to encounter Europeans?

Floss picks.

No one knows where these floss picks come from or where they go. I assume they eventually make their way to the sea and choke a turtle.