A friend, who I had asked for some whipped cream, brought me something called "Cool Whip" instead.
I examined it with perplexity. What was I supposed to do with it? The labels did not help:
Now richer and creamier* (*among customers with a preference)!
Original. Contains milk. Whipped topping net wt 8oz. Serving size 2 tbsp.
To thaw: [Place in fridge]. Storage: [in fridge]. For best results: [do not
thaw on countertop].
The image showed a strawberry stuck in some white whipped-cream-like
thing. I opened the tub, stared at the white content, cautiously tried some:
definitely not the same consistency as whipped cream. The people around me
were equally ignorant (my social group does not intersect the Cool
Whip subculture, I guess). We prudently decided to not risk spoiling the
food by using it. So here it is now, sitting in my fridge until I am in a
bold, innovative mood, and willing to give it a try.
The same phenomenon occurs with technological gadgets and software. The
designer lives in a world full of those gadgets, and cannot imagine the
extent of the luddite's ignorance. It's an additional obstacle for us.