Jigsaws.
An interesting hobby.
Somewhere between the peaceful Zen empty-mind of fishing, and the somehow satisfying feeling of faux-creativity.
I've done a few in my time. Not many recently, mind you.
I had cause to go and buy a second-hand one the other day, and upon my return noticed that it had a sticker on to certify that it had been checked and rendered complete by someone in the shop. Imagine - you volunteer to raise funds and forward the cause of your favourite charity, a high and noble cause indeed, and then some generous and large-hearted swine brings in a large bag of jigsaws and you're sat counting bits all day.
Imagine, if you will, someone, in a particularly strange vein of mild-evil (the diet coke of evil?) who went around and stole just one piece from each charity shop jigsaw. The frustration and dissatisfaction from each act, when the new owners completed their puzzles, would be spread wide and far.
But go back to the imaginary piece-thief - the Wrecker of Puzzles, Destroyer of Joy. Imagine them continuing this unsavoury habit - unchecked, and undiscovered by the police - for years. Picture, if you can, his growing pile of single pieces, perhaps surrounded by a small candle-lit shrine, and polaroids of people with hopeful faces buying the incomplete jigsaws.
Visualise his moment of ecstasy as he realises that he has one thousand pieces from one thousand separate jigsaws, and see him in your mind's eye as he buys a box to put them in...and donates them to a charity shop.
Imagine the sweet old lady who bought this puzzle because of the nice picture of puppies on the box. She would be the most confused person in the world.
Don't know why I'm telling you this. I guess I'm just happy that I've got something to do when I retire.
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Cheers for that mate.
I don't think counting the pieces would help. I mean, what if someone had swapped a couple of pieces from one jigsaw to another. For that certification to be valid, you would actually have to do the jigsaw.
Sorry, my name's Karen and I'm a Quality Systems Manager.
I thought the same thing Karen.
THOUGHT, not DONE... (yet heh)
i once had a frankenjigsaw. it was glorious to be sure, but only just worth the pain on my mother's face when i told her that you couldn't have a new puzzle order without making a few sacrifices.
and the six hours i spent sorting out the 3000 mangled pieces again under her watchful eye.
Hurrah!
(but eek as well)
*You* may have your retirement planned. I hadn't. Until now :-)
Now THAT is different gear! I could easily do that, and get a thrill out of it. Not that I would, because it's immoral and that'd be wrong. Hehehe.
I humbly propose that there is a subtler, wholly non-destructive way to torment jigsawers. (Jigseers. The jigsighted. What ARE they called?)
It's complex, and involves sorcery and necromancy, since the old bitch who always used to finish everyone's jigsaws while they were sleeping is long dead.
Anyway, resurrect my Gran. Then you'll see what I'm talking about.
What Karen said. But not so well put.