Unique One Fall 2006 Newsletter
A Day in the Life....

Migratory Utensils

Let's talk about scissors. Everyone knows, you shouldn't run with them. Not everyone knows, however, of their strange migratory habits (although, many of you may suspect them).

In my store there are five places where there should always be a pair of scissors handy: 1) by the phone near the front counter; 2) over the pressing table; 3) on my desk; 4) by the knitting machine and 5) in the yarn department. Five places. Five pairs of scissors, one in each place. Easy, right?

But they are never there. Millenia ago, scissors were herd utensils, moving in packs over the great plains of fabric in the wild wooly west. Then they were domesticated, tamed, some even becoming blunt-pointed, safe in the hands of children (who run) and on airplanes. Some scissor owners even began to brand their scissors, marking them with Sharpies or masking tape, claiming ownership. We thought the herd instinct was bred out of them, that scissors could live a happy, solitary existence in a drawer or a mug or on a hook.

How wrong we were. Given the chance, scissors will group together and huddle in abject, utilitarian sharpness in a dark corner, far from their appointed spot, surrounded by every other pair of scissors within a 100-meter radius. They may even attract a few tape measures or staple-pullers, looking for companionship. They'll hang out in a secluded corner or on a shelf, all of them, waiting contentedly, watching with pointed humor as we foolishly run about, exclaiming, "God, five damn pair of scissors in this place... where the @&*(^$ are they?!?!" Eventually we discover them and put them all back in their respective places, but we all know that the herd mentality will overtake them again in a few weeks, and soon we'll be on a store-wide scissor round-up.

Silly scissors.



mary Jane

They even climb stairs. Nail clippers are a lesser breed yet have the same habits.

The comments to this entry are closed.