I'm quite possibly the only person in history to get in an actual fight with a jar of anything and lose, but that's later.
First I want to address my remonstrance with the mayonnaise jar:
Why is it whenever I want a turkey sandwich I can never get the damn jar of mayonnaise open? I'm beginning to think it really is a message from the Lord warning me against eventual arterial clogs. And reminding me of my limited caloric intake. I'm serious! I can never it get it open!
I've begun to formulate a series of postulations about how the temperature change between my fridge and the outside air is causing a negative pressure differential. This would in turn create a vacuum in the mayonnaise jar. I've seriously looked it up, but not in a book or anything. On wikipedia. The part about the air pressure differential and temperature, not the mayonnaise jar part.
I've also wondered if maybe I have a rare degenerative muscle disease that prevents me from opening it. Pondering this reminded me to take my vitamins.
Now for a short story of how the mayonnaise jar won our fight:
Imagine an evening in which your humble narrator and protagonist has had a bad day. Go ahead...I'll wait. Not a horrible day, I survived and all, just a bad day.
Okay, now that you're finished I won't bore you with the details of the day because in reality I had probably over-reacted. So bad day turns into bad evening. I'm sure traffic was stupid on I-40 and I'm also confident I had to be somewhere that I was already late for. All I really want is a God-Blessed turkey sandwich. With mayo. Not unreasonable.
My first mistake was in assuming my foe wasn't formidable. I was lulled by the availability of resources. I had bread, turkey, even fake cheese. I had clean utensils. Hell, I even had papertowels. I was already crafting my victory speech. I was already tasting the sweetness of the turkey and mayo combined with the white bread.
Oh no! The mayo won't open. I try again. And again and again and again ad nauseum. I whack on the lid with a knife. I beat the lid against the counter. I grab a dishtowel to get some grip. It's not opening. My mother calls and catches an undeserved wrath by suggesting that I run the lid under hot water. (It didn't work by the way.) I should have admitted defeat. I should have had something different. But I'm not one to shy away from danger. I'm not a chump. I'm not a wuss. I can out-think the jar of mayonnaise because I am smarter than it. And I have been blessed with the gift of opposable thumbs. These thumbs separated my species from our lowly common ape-like ancestors and brought us off the harsh ground niche into the canopy where we feasted like kings on the ripe fruits and berries available there. Had I been around I would have scoffed at those still lumbering on the ground waiting for the offal and cast-offs of my petit-dejuener. I can get the mayonnaise jar open. I merely have to be smarter.
Plastic is a wonderful thing. It has certainly been a useful invention derived from our limited fossil fuels But, it does break. If you slam a mayonnaise jar against the floor hard enough not only does the lid break but the actual dense plastic jar does too.
And what I hadn't looked up on the wikipedia beforehand was the physics of momentum. This being that whenever an object collides with another non-movable stationary object the contents of the first object escape at the velocity with which they were impacted against the non-movable object.
You would be amazed at how fast you can hurl a mayonnaise jar.
You would also be amazed at how well mustard compliments turkey.