I’m an avid watcher of Shark Tank. I love that show. I watch it so much that I would like to fancy myself a pseudo-expert in the entrepreneurial world. I can tell when Damon believes an idea is garbage. I know when Barbara doesn’t see a return on her investment. I see the look in Robert’s eyes when he doesn’t believe in the person. I can see when Mark is going to bow out because it’s not in his wheel house, meaning he can’t stamp it with the Mavericks logo and hock it at NBA games. I can feel a rant about a company’s inflated valuation coming from Mr. Wonderful a mile away.
My family and I make bets about which sharks will jump at the truly innovative new products and who will turn down the necessary non-sense someone is trying to unleash on our marketplace.
I was barreling through the grocery store yesterday when I was stopped dead in my tracks by this.
I instantly threw on my Shark Tank hat.
Really? How did this product make it through production and into the marketplace? Are there really a bunch of knife-less households in America where people sit around staring at their full-sized hot dogs after cooking them, contemplating how they are now going to cut up the dog into delightful, bite-sized piece? Who are these people willing to shell out $4.00 of their hard-earned money for a clunky piece of draw clutter? I mean, it’s kind of cute, but seriously folks. You green lighted production of this woofer to do a job of a task that can be done with the side of a fork or, for free, by the human fingers attached at the person holding said hot dog?
I’m blaming Lori, Queen of QVC.