|14.8 x 8.0 x 6.6 cm|
I love things that are labeled things that they are not.
In 2009, I went in to a cobbler on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn. I am not sure if it is a sign of the times, or just specific to New York, but it seems like all the cobblers are branching out, trying to make ends meet by selling crappy watches and hair clippers, pocket knives and alarm clocks. Anyway, I noticed this on the shelf and really wanted it. I didn't want the clock, just the packaging. The font is so confident and absolute in its labelingness. Yet the picture is so very much a clock, which is pretty much to the opposite of a goat.
Just out of curiosity, I asked the price. When the man behind the counter lifted the box, he half smiled and shook it. "Empty," he chuckled. I asked if I could have the box. He said sure, what's it good for anyway.