So there we were, two strangers standing side-by-side, having the same problem. We couldn't open up those silly little packets of mustard, and we really wanted to chow down on our hotdogs.
We tore at those things to no avail. I think we went through two or three mustard packs each, tossing the untearable ones back into the bucket to grab another. It was rather comical. Not about to be defeated (and I was getting really hungry), I finally pulled out my little serrated Spyderco Cricket and cut open my package. Hah! Tool-using human. I triumphantly squirted the mustard all over my hotdog.
So I looked over at the other guy, who's still grumbling at the mustard and tearing away. I hold out my hand and offer to open his mustard pack for him. He looks over as he starts to hand over the packet, spots the big, scary knife I'm holding, makes "aaaah, oooh" gasping noises, and recoils in horror like I was holding a giant cockroach with big, googly eyes. He tosses the mustard onto the table and stands there like I'm offering to slice his throat open.
I should've just walked off and left the moron standing there, but I had to show him the 100-pound girl with the tiny utility blade meant no harm. I cut his mustard pack open, said, "there you go," and went on my way, stuffing myself with my hotdog.
Looking at that guy, he was just a bit younger than me. He probably has a Playstation and drools over himself as he guns down and mutilates pixelated people, but recoils in horror over a tiny Spyderco. All I did was offer to open up a pack of mustard. Are people completely incapable of understanding things in context?