Invasion of the Corrugated Frightmares

It started off innocently. I ordered a DVD online, then a watch from China. But online shopping was so easy to do, that when the boxes started to come, they never stopped. The first boxes that arrived seemed fine enough; maybe too big, but that didn’t bother me too much. I’m not a pack rat, but I typically don’t immediately throw out shipping boxes. You never know when you might need an extra box. At least that’s what my Nana used to say.

But soon I had more boxes than things to put in them. At first, I didn’t mind the large box filled with bubble wrap and packing peanuts. But then I began to find Styrofoam in my jacket pockets, in my bathroom drawers, and even in my cereal. I thought this was unusual, but I didn’t raise any alarms. Big mistake.

I had large boxes, small boxes, and all sizes in between. I had long boxes, and short boxes; some wide and others thin. I had boxes on boxes, and they just kept coming. Was I even still ordering things? Every day I would have to cut my way through the dense forest of boxes just to get out my front door. And when I returned home there were, even more, awaiting me. The number of boxes in my apartment was increasing faster than I could throw them away.

But this is only part of my nightmare. I worked at a warehouse, and we had a large room filled with assorted sizes of corrugated boxes. It was best to avoid the room since it was more common to be buried alive than locate a box.

When I asked coworkers about the excessive amount of boxes they responded, “What boxes?” With a chill down my spine, I decided it was time to head home and lie down for a bit.

The day grew steadily worse. On my walk home, there were boxes in the dumpsters, around each bend, and down every alleyway. Were the boxes stalking me? With each step, I needed to maneuver around the bubble wrap lying about. The occasional missed step and pop worsened my anxiety. Passersby didn’t seem to notice.

My eye started to twitch, and I felt that I was going insane. I ran my hand through my hair, trying my best to calm myself down as I walked to my apartment. As I rounded the hallway corner, there was another box waiting for me. Oversized, and filled to the brim with more packing peanuts. I lost it, yelled, and swore; without thinking, I ran to open my door.

An avalanche of boxes and void filler came pouring out. I was buried alive by shipping boxes.

Avoid crushing your customers, with an On Demand Packaging® system. You can make custom boxes for every order—relieving their nightmares while eliminating wasteful packaging. Keep the mountains of cardboard and seas of packing peanuts to the frightmares.

Subscribe

To learn more about custom boxes and how to save your customers fill the form below