Eureka! 31 drops in a box marked 30

On a recent gloomy and cold rainy day, I found myself staring suspiciously at a box of A&W Paper Clips. It was an innocent enough looking box of fasteners, but something about the package smacked of deception.

Suddenly it came to me: "250 paper clips," claimed the label. 250. I sneered. I was in one of those moods. I began to count.

Twenty-three minutes later I shouted, "Gotcha," as I dropped the two hundred and fifty-third clip into the box. You can't kid me, A&W, I'm not just your average consumer. I'm a watchdog -- an advocate of the people. Nobody is going to give me the extra goods without telling me about it.

I ran to the store and bought, bought, bought, filling a hand basket with countables. I had to know the facts on this sort of treachery. When I got home, I began to open, count, and record.

With absolute glee, I discovered 102 Jumbo Carnival Straws in the box pronouncing 100. With sheer ecstasy I tallied 104 Curity Super Scott King Size (and 100% rayon) Puffs in the unattractive little bag promising 100. I shrilled with joy when I counted an extra sheet of paper on the Scotch Brand Post-it Note Pad (3inX3in) -- a pad meant to have only 100.

Obviously in this great land of ours, manufacturers think they can fool me. Giving me something for nothing, an extra piece of chicken in my very own pot. Wide-eyed, I continued to count.

I faltered when I hit the 1,296 inches of Scotch brand tape. Snipped into lengths of 46 inches (the length of my kitchen table), I counted 28 strips with seven inches left over. Allowing for some error, that gave me between 1,295 and 1,297 inches. I shuddered. It was just too close for comfort.

I forged on to the Band-Aid Sheer Bandages. "Aha!" I cried, "seventy-one instead of seventy!" And next I discovered a whopping 265 Forster Square-Center Round Tooth Pics in a box that was supposed to contain only 250. "No wool over these eyes!" I yelped.

And then my world started to slow down.

The bottle of 250 Norwich aspirin contained exactly 250 pills. That was no fun. Then the 36 Downy Fabric Softener sheets box (April Fresh) held precisely 36. And the box of 120 (originally 100, but you get 20 free) Dow Ziploc Pleated Sandwich Bags contained the exact number.

By now I was out of goods. OK, I thought to myself, these snakes may think they've won the war, but the battle's just begun. I ran to the corner drugstore and bought, bought, bought again.

The Bausch & Lomb Renu Effervescent Enzymatic Contact Lens cleaner box had the correct 22 tablets.

The 10 Bic Shavers for Sensitive Shaving totaled 10.

And the 96 HI-Dri Paper Towels did indeed contain 96 of the little monsters.

My theories were crumbling before my eyes and I was not a better man for it. With fear, I counted the Scott 300's Napkins pack. 300 out of 300. Confusion and rage enveloped me.

Outside, a beam of sunlight thrust itself through the clouds and into my living room. Though brow-beaten and discouraged, I was more determined than ever to continue my quest.

I began to count the 600 Penn Ball Point Pins. "Nickel Plated Steel," I thought incoherently to myself. "Size 17. One and one sixteenth inches. Style 2160 ... "

The resultant figure -- unbelievable. I counted the pins again. And again. Only 586 when there should have been 600. I called a friend on the phone. "I need you to come over." "What for?" he asked. "I need you to count 600 pins for me." He hung up.

Could it be that the manufacturer forgot to give me all the pins? Befuddled, I turned my attention to the 250 Stuart Hall Rules 3x5 Index Cards and apprehensively counted them. 250 out of 250.

With chagrin, I counted the 170 Stuart Hall Envelopes. Only 169. With mounting despair, I enumerated the 300 Wal-Mart Flexible Soft Swabs. "Joy and salvation!" I called out to no one in particular, "304 swabs!"

Sneakily, I decided to try the Scotch Brand Post-It Notes again, this time in a different size. They had been good to me before. I got a 1 1/2-by-2-inch pad out and counted away. "Ha! 101 out of 100!" That 3-M company .... who do they think they're fooling?" I grinned knowingly. You can't kid a kidder.

I was rolling again. Try the Reynolds Wrap, an inner voice teased. I began counting an alleged 200 foot roll of the foil into 3-foot lengths. One and a half hours later I had 66 lengths with six inches left over. With great expectations, I crunched the numbers out on my calculator and came up with a disheartening 2,382 inches, or 198.5 feet. Even allowing for poor measurements on my part, that was still too close to be exactly correct. The Reynolds Company, I concluded, was my kind of company. None of this deceitful overage.

Yet sadness encircled my day. I looked at the masking tape and the dental floss I had bought and decided that I couldn't go on with it. My notion of the Great American Consumer Deception was only half-baked. Out of 20 items, only 50% of them were exactly what they said, 10% gave less and 40% attempted to sneak some extra good into my life. This kind of success wasn't enough.

Resigned, and with heavy foot, I headed for the door for a solitary walk to sooth my sense of inadequacy.

But wait. As I approached the door I spied a friend. Nestled on the shelf by the portal was an unopened package of New! Vicks Vitamin C Drops. Made with real Juicy Crystals. Juicy Pineapple Flavor. 30 drops. Thirty drops. I tore the package open and began to count.

"Eureka!" I cried across the land. "Thirty-one drops!! Thirty-one drops!!" Tears ran down my face. Elated and six inches off the ground, I left my house and danced merrily down the street. As twilight fell, I generously gave out free Vitamin Drops to anyone who did not run in the opposite direction.

Michael Walker is an obsessive-compulsive freelance writer in Washington, DC.  He is also the founder and proprietor of DREAMWalker Group.

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