Hand-in-glove

The last time I bought a pair of gloves, some years ago, I went into a shop and asked for, well, gloves.  The shopkeeper took out a pair that smelt strongly of a rubber factory in which all extra space had been reserved for rotten eggs and molasses.  I bought it (the gloves, not the factory) and it’s still in great shape, but no longer smells of rubber+rotten eggs+molasses.  Instead it smells of something that makes the earlier smell feel like a Pierre Cardin perfume on steroids.

So, I checked out Amazon.  Keyed in ‘gloves’. 

There were over twenty thousand instant results.  

Are you a giant idiot? the chatbot said (Actually, it did not, but I could see the bloody emoji and that said it).  Did I want Organik Premium Quality Washable Reusable Cotton Hand Gloves? This was on sale for Rs. 166 for ten pieces in a limited time deal (highlighted in red, so this got me all excited). Or was it my hidden, long-suppressed, deeply emotional desire to own The Coolio Midas Safety Brown Shell with Crinkle Finish?  

Another option was powder-free gloves, in which there were about two hundred and seventy sub-options, divided into further categories (I remain unsure if powder-free means that there will be no powder in the gloves, which I never knew there was in the first place, or that I will get some powder free with the gloves.  In which case, do note that my preference is for Ponds Sandal talc).  

Riderscart, whoever he is, has the option of non-sterile latex medical examination disposable hand gloves which, since it is non-sterile, can only be used to clip your finger nails in a hospital or for a doc to dig his nose in-between patients (no, the nose is not in between patients, how can I make this any clearer?).  

There were latex gloves and silicon gloves and plastic gloves and nylon gloves, and it was about an hour later that I realised that buying gloves was becoming a serious, committed, you-only-live-once task.

I keyed ‘Scotch Brite gloves’ in, which, you will agree, was a stroke of masterful genius.  

The Bot was incredulous: was this customer’s idiocy genetic, generational and needing immediate medical attention?  Did I want kitchen gloves (ultra soft cotton lining with extra sensitive grip and fresh lemon scent) or heavy duty (extra strength with secure grip and adjustable strap) or multi-purpose with reinforced fingertips (not to be used to dig nose in-between patients, without risk of injury to what is now a bigger nose).  In each, there were four sizes (of gloves, not noses) and instructions on how to measure your hand and select the right size.  There were colours as well, so I chose a delicate-skylight-grey, heavy duty, extra strength with secure grip and adjustable strap in medium size, that was a Amazon’s Choice Limited Time Deal (the Bot relaxed now and gave me a fetching attractive smile. Not a laugh.  Even I know the difference in these two emojis).    

Yesterday, I received a package that was so big that it had been check-in baggage on a Russian Antonov An-225 aircraft.  There were about seven layers of plastic, which was deeply touching because it demonstrated how much Amazon cared for me.  I peeled it all off carefully with my Swiss-knife-For-Amazon-Packaging (Exclusive Limited Time Deal, Amazon’s Choice), with feverish anticipation.  I am now the proud owner of a pair of pink Kitchen Gloves Ultra Soft Cotton Lining Extra Sensitive Grip With Lemon Scent, sized Extra Large, that will neatly fit a Yeti's hand, as and when he shops on Amazon.

If I ever see that Bot, there will be a murder reported.