When you found me at the flea market, you had on one of those ridiculous shoulder-mounted cameras. You probably uploaded your little cheap-market excursions online. Showing off your savviness. Your cleverness.
From my package, you read aloud, “Comes with knives.” Then you flipped me over, looking for the disclosed knives. “Hey, this one’s missing pieces,” you continued to the proprietor. “Can I get a discount?”