2003-05-06 - 9:40 p.m.
A Public Service Announcement:
You know those mean little hunks of plastic stores clamp on to clothing that say "WARNING: Attempting to remove this tag will release ink and could cause injury?"
They are not kidding.
A few weeks ago Piper and I went shoppng at a big dumb mall out in the suburbs. She bought a nice pair of fawn colored pants there, on sale at one of the mall stores. But later when she went to wear the pants, the obnoxious hunk of plastic with its little red warning was firmly anchored to one leg. The beleagured sales clerk had forgotten to remove it. Not only was the store many long traffic-y miles from home, but the receipt was nowhere to be found. The prospect of driving all the way out there and trying to convince some self-important mall store manager that the pants were not stolen was about as appealing as the stomach flu. No surprise, the pants laid around the house, a prisoner, a total loss.... unless.....
I always wondered about those things. Privately I thought there was a good chance the tags were just a threat, something on the order of dummy security cameras, and "cashier does not have access to cash" signs. If everyone believed they were dangerous, ink-spewing little bombs, then they would work as well as if they actually were. Why go to the trouble of making something so destructive?
Meanwhile, I had noticed, making subsequent purchases in other clothing stores, how the clerks used a tool to remove those tags (and believe me I was making SURE they did) that seemed to slip into the gap and clamp from both sides simultaneously. So I began to think that if I could find a way to mimic that action, the tag would pop off.
I examined it again, wedging it apart slightly, and saw that there were two opposing flat edges where the pressure could be exerted. It could work.
Sunday morning I took the pants down to the basement workshop while Piper was working on her poetry. I found a couple of little plastic tabs that fit into the gaps on each side and carefully squeezed them with a pair of pliers. At first nothing happened. The gaps widens a tiny bit, encouraging me. I squeezed harder. Then I heard a sound like fine glass breaking. And moments later a deep purple stain was spreading on the fawn colored pants..... and my hands.
The THING was still firmly attached. Now that the damage had been done, I wanted at least to get the f------ thing off, and see what made it tick. Easier said than done. After attempting several different attacks involving two pairs of pliers, two different screw driver and a pair of vice-grips, I finally got it off. In the process, more broken glass fell out and bright yellow ink was added to the purple stains on the pants, my hands, and the work bench.
I never did figure out how (or if) I could have gotten it off the "right" way, but I did see where the little glass vials of ink were positioned beside the pin that went through the fabric, ready to break open at the first sign of prying. I suppose the "injury" they promised could have come from the broken glass-- at least I managed to avoid that.
I had a miniscule hope that the ink might come out with the right treatment. (Not much though. At this point I had pretty much lost all faith in the goodness of mankind.) But no, none of my laundry room alchemy could touch it. The purple ink blotch just laughed at SprayNWash, Spot Shot, Biz.
So I had to confess to Piper that I had ruined her pants, when I was hoping to suprise her by liberating them. But she wasn't mad. I promised to cut them off and make her a pair of capri pants out of them.... um.... as soon as I get the sewing machine fixed.
Fortunately,I am a painter and people are used to seeing me with paint in places it doesn't belong. Otherwise these purple and yellow hands would be awfully hard to explain. Let that deter you from a life of crime!
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