Description
The item is a small fruit knife, initially black. With use, some edges have become dull and silver. It is cool, sleek, and relatively lightweight. The knife itself doesn’t belong to me; it belongs to one of my roommates, who is also a good friend of mine. I started borrowing her knife over the summer because, somehow, a mere fruit knife was far more effective at cutting meat and vegetables than the sad abomination of a yellow knife that my boyfriend’s mother supplied. Unfortunately, over time, the blade has dulled, and neither of us is skilled enough to sharpen it properly. There isn’t much to sharpen anyway, given its small size. The knife, which once could slice through raw chicken and beef like paper, now sits on the drying rack, used and abused, dejected after losing battles against slices of bread.
Anecdote
To put it simply, the knife has been through hell and back.
Want to cut some fruit? Use the knife. Vegetables? Use the knife. Meat? Knife. Plastic packaging? Knife. Intruders? Probably the knife as well, if all else fails, and if help is not coming fast enough.
The knife was so sharp and easy to use over the summer, but over a few short months, its edge has become nothing more than a fleeting memory.
I was in denial, intent on using the knife until its last dying breath, unaware, or refusing to believe, that it was already halfway to disintegration. My moment of acceptance came only when I was trying to gut tomatoes for some pico one fateful afternoon, and I stupidly held the tomato and cut into it in a way that is detrimental to my hands.
The tomato’s walls were relatively thin. One moment, I was separating the seeds. The next, I felt a stinging sensation as the tip of the knife penetrated the flesh of the tomato and into my own, or at least that was what I thought.
Like any sane and normal human being, I immediately put down the tomato and the offender, ready to perform some first aid on myself. I expected a cut. Some blood, maybe a lot of blood. But what I was not expecting was the lack of injury. There was not even a sliver of blood, a flap of skin, or even a red mark indicating that I had accidentally stabbed myself in the first place.
Most would be relieved that they didn’t almost stab themselves out of negligence or mishandling. I, however, felt no such relief. If there was relief, then it was greatly overshadowed by this overwhelming sense of disappointment that poking myself with a small wooden toothpick would’ve dealt more damage than the fruit knife.
It was then that I accepted that I was torturing the poor thing, and that although the knife technically wasn’t mine by ownership, we were due for an upgrade.
Interesting Facts
Of course, with an upgrade, comes research. I visited different online stores in search of a knife replacement, and I was greeted with the large variety of knives, many of which are of different shapes and sizes. I was then sidetracked and went down a rabbit hole and looked into knives in general, and I found a few interest facts about them, listed below.
- A dagger was found buried with the Pharaoh Tutankhamen, and it appears that it was made from meteorite iron. (Tekto Knives)
- Cutting onions with a sharper knife will lead to fewer tears, since a sharper knife is less likely to damage the onion's walls, minimizing the release of the chemicals that irritate your eyes. (Krudo Knives)
- The modern pocket knife was called a “penny knife” because it cost a penny to obtain in England and the United States during the late eighteenth century. It was commonly used by farmers. (Wikipedia)
