I bought this mockery of a machine as a gift for my wife, because she hates grating cheese by hand. She’s very lazy, but that’s neither here nor there. The first thing she did when I gave it to her was ask, "What’s this? What kind of a cheap [email protected] buys a cheese grater as a birthday gift?" Pushing my anger aside, I told her to try it out. That it’ll make her life in the kitchen a bit easier. After being yelled at for what seemed like an eternity about how I’m sexist and a fool for implying that a woman’s place is in the kitchen, she finally calmed down and decided to try it out. Yelling at me always makes her hungry.
Finally, I thought. Wait until she sees this bad boy in action. From what I had seen in the commercials, this Power Grater was going to demolish that block of cheddar protruding from her sweaty ham-like hands in seconds. She placed the block in and struggled with connecting the cover to the base. "Oh yeah." she said. "This is as easy as easy gets." She’s fluent in sarcasm. What little sincerity she possessed quickly died after I said, "I do." After snapping it in place, she pressed the button. Then it began to grate the block of cheese. To say that it was slow would be giving the Power Grater much more credit than it deserves. A minute had passed, and it had barely grated enough cheese to cover the surface of a quarter.
My wife looked at me with a rage I hadn’t seen since the time I made the mistake of eating the last slice of pizza several years earlier. "What in the (expletive deleted) am I supposed to do with this? I’d lose 10 pounds before this damn thing finishes grating the cheese!" I had to bite my tongue to the point of drawing blood to prevent even touching that one. "You take this (expletive deleted) back to whatever dollar store or flea market you bought it from and get me a real gift!" She flung it at me with lightning speed and plastic and cheese exploded across my forehead. My head was ringing and all I could see was flashes of white light.
"That’s what you get for buying me a piece of crap for my birthday, you worthless (expletive deleted)!" I heard her shout through the intense ringing sound that had now become my universe. "The commercial…it…it…" was all I could utter. The commercial had lead me to believe that I had bought a miracle machine. That I would for once have done something to make my wife actually give me a compliment. Now it was my turn to rage. "I WAS LIED TO!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. A small gash had opened up where the Power Grater had made contact and blood was trickling down into my left eye. "All I wanted to do was make your fat (expletive deleted) happy for once in your miserable life! It’s not my fault! The commercial made it seem like it would cut the cheese in seconds! Everything is a lie! Our marriage is a lie! I can’t stand you and I want a divorce! Happy birthday, you fat, miserable (expletive deleted)!"
Long story short, she broke pretty much everything I owned and took the house. I’m currently living in a tiny apartment that is so rundown, not even the roaches would live in it and my neighbors make crack heads seem like upstanding citizens. I’m currently having to review this product from the library because, one, it’s the only place I feel safe. And two, my soon to be ex wife broke my computer. So would I recommend this product? If you have to ask, then you must have skipped the first four paragraphs.