First I take in the neatness of the entire package with its exact dimensions, familiar lettering, and unknown but inexplicably prestigious symbology.
The box is unremarkable, exactly like the several hundred I have retired before it. I thump it smartly into the palm of my right hand in a ritual that I don't entirely comprehend, but understand to be "packing" the tobacco.
I am about to break the seal that has, until this moment, protected the integrity of twenty "Class A Cigarettes".
The golden line inlaid in the cellophane wrapper strips away cleanly, encountering no snags and taking only nanometers of unnecessary wrapping with it. I am close now.
The metal coated paper that represents the final barrier is freed easily and tears exactly upon its perforations as it was designed to do.
I contemplate the exposed contents. No space is wasted. I wonder, as I have many times, at the skill required to fill such a container so completely with cylindrical objects, or at the skill required to design the machinery that does so. I have attempted to fill a pack of cigarettes by hand and, while occasionally successful, I don't think it would be efficient enough for the scale at which cigarettes must be produced.
Before I select the first burnt offering I consider the wondrous facts of its uniformity and constant availability. The manufacturer has made certain, through years of trial and error, that demand can never exceed supply.
The box is unremarkable, exactly like the several hundred I have retired before it. I thump it smartly into the palm of my right hand in a ritual that I don't entirely comprehend, but understand to be "packing" the tobacco.
I am about to break the seal that has, until this moment, protected the integrity of twenty "Class A Cigarettes".
The golden line inlaid in the cellophane wrapper strips away cleanly, encountering no snags and taking only nanometers of unnecessary wrapping with it. I am close now.
The metal coated paper that represents the final barrier is freed easily and tears exactly upon its perforations as it was designed to do.
I contemplate the exposed contents. No space is wasted. I wonder, as I have many times, at the skill required to fill such a container so completely with cylindrical objects, or at the skill required to design the machinery that does so. I have attempted to fill a pack of cigarettes by hand and, while occasionally successful, I don't think it would be efficient enough for the scale at which cigarettes must be produced.
Before I select the first burnt offering I consider the wondrous facts of its uniformity and constant availability. The manufacturer has made certain, through years of trial and error, that demand can never exceed supply.
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