I’m not too sure, because I don’t make a habit of whipping mine out of my pants to compare it with everyone else’s. Frankly it’s not polite to do so in public, and besides I’m not real keen on having someone else fiddling with it, because, well, a pocket knife is personal thing isn’t it.
I’ve had a few knives over the years. The first one lasted for ages, but I eventually polished it down to the size and thickness of a toothpick. The next one looked good, but had a bad habit of coming apart under pressure, so it got the flick.
My third knife had numerous attachments and gizmos’, most of which I managed to break or bend in a spectacularly short time. It was bulky and heavy, but had I actually come across a horse with a stone in its shoe, I reckon I could have used that knife to knock it unconscious before prying the rock loose with the only remaining unbroken screwdriver blade.
My current knife is a plastic handled affair with a quality, semi-serrated blade. It fits snugly in my trouser pocket, and is used every day to open letters, remove splinters, trim nails, prise lids off jars, stir coffee, scrape paint, undo screws, and occasionally cut stuff.
That’s if it’s not too blunt.
You see, the serrated edges make it a bit of a pain to sharpen, but after a quick polish on my honing stone, it cuts cleaner and quicker than a Brisbane cabbie.
And if you’d like to see mine then I’ll happily show it to you; but only if you show me yours first.