These scissors are sinister
I’m left-handed. It’s been a source of pride since early childhood, and I tell you now that I love being left-handed and consider it to be superior to being right-handed. Not equal. Superior. Why? I’m not allowed to say; it’s a left-handed thing.
Leftys are singled out around first grade when we’re issued scissors. Your first teacher says, “I see you are left-handed,” and then hands you special scissors. If you didn’t know you were left-handed, by first grade you did.
I personally thought left-handed scissors were bogus, because the only difference seemed to be the word “lefty” stamped on them, and I had a hard time using scissors whether they were left-handed or right-handed. Perhaps my technique was wrong. It’s hard to know for sure because it was years ago, but as an adult I assume that left-handed scissors were simply bolted together in a manner opposite to right-handed scissors, and both kinds sucked.
Now I am a grown man, college educated, aware of both engineering and ergonomics, and I have strong opinions about scissors. Consider these two similar models, both from Fiskars:
Look closely at the fit of the lefty:
as opposed to the regular:
What, some may ask, is the big deal? Let me show you the results of a few short minutes of cutting using right-handed scissors (parents, please send your children to another room):
They say men can never know the pain of child birth (barring kidney stones), but I say you don’t know pain until you’re left-handed and are forced to use right-handed scissors.