It is time. Time to tackle the huge shipment of pipettes that arrived in less than pristine condition. This is a portion of the boxes–the good ones:
The smashy boxes have been segregated to the front desk so their degree of smashiness can be ascertained.
The human female and her staff are now proposing to start unpacking and see just how bad the damage is.
It’s not looking good…
The corrugated carnage is of the extremest sort.
Hmm. The pipettes themselves seem actually to be unharmed. Pity.
Oh, well, can’t have everything.
It’s like some malicious math problem: If there are thirty-nine boxes, two product boxes per box, and three pipettes per product box… Plus packing cardboard. The human female and her staff have become automatons. Open carton. Take out boxes. Open boxes. Pull out the cardboard straps holding the pipettes and remove the fancy-cut-and-folded cardboard inserts.
So. Much. Cardboard. I am making a castle out of the empties.
This is possibly more pipettes than have ever been assembled in one place at one time in the history of the world.
In each box there is also a registration card, a booklet in a bag, and two boxes of pipette tips, each its own plastic bag.
It’s a recycler’s nightmare. The human female and her techs are nursing dozens of paper cuts, and there are at least four carts of flattened boxes to be hauled out to the recycling bin.
Each pipette also arrived with one or two tags hanging from it. Hmmm… Scan the code and enter info for a chance to win something…
And nothing in the fine print says I can’t enter 300 times.