I pity the fool without a dollar knife. I pity the fool foolish enough to mess with another fool that’s purchased the dollar knife. I pity anything attempted to be cut with the dollar knife because it will not be cut clean, it will be crushed and sawed and mangled. But it will be cut.
You can get your own dollar knife at Walmart. It’ll cost $1 even, and, if you think like me, that’s reason enough to buy it. I don’t remember where mine was made, but I can guess – by the same blacksmiths that forged the great Samuri swords in, well, China, probably. As a knife, it’s barely worth the tax paid on the $1 purchase. As a concept, it’s priceless.
See, the dollar knife embodies infinite protection. I carried it with us into the Tetons to scare away bears. I brandished it in Utah to scare away rattlesnakes. In Arizona, it repelled countless mountain lions. So far, it’s saved us from two deaths multiple times, probably.
However, on vegetables, the dollar knife disappoints. It can barely cut cheese. Its thick, dull blade isn’t overly effective in the kitchen. Its strengths lie in the wilderness, trying to close itself onto your fingers.
Sometimes I’ll use my dollar knife to clean my fingernails. Well, I attempt to clean my fingernails. It’s pretty poor at that too. The tip is too thick and rounded. The best thing it does is pry the back off my headlamp so I can replace the batteries. It was, after all, only $1. But it pries very well and it protects us from lurking bears, mountain lions, etc. Mentally, at least. That seems worth a dollar.