Kitchen Timer

You need one. We all need one. The one on your stove is broken. The one on the microwave makes a loud, unnatural sound that irritates your pets and makes your skin crawl. Using your cell phone isn't actually cool unless you have an iPhone with a kitchen timer app and then it's only cool to those people.

So, you buy a kitchen timer; one that you have space for and counts down just as many minutes as is necessary. I bought this one from Kikkerland Design because it's magnetic, easy to use, and comes in old-fashioned appliance blue.

Don't buy it; it's a piece of shit.

Picture this: you get your new kitchen timer home and eagerly unwrap it, like a gift you bought yourself after Christmas. You toss the instructions because they say obvious or useless things like, "Turn to set," or "Buy our other kitchen timers." You put it on the refrigerator but not quite in the right place, so you slide it to a new location and it leaves a black trail across the face of your freezer door.

Maybe you should clean it. Maybe, but doing so in the sink will fill the timer with water, warping the readout paper and causing the face to fog up. You won't be able to return it in that condition.

Maybe you should wipe off the magnet with a paper towel. Maybe, but tell me when you eventually get black residue to stop rubbing off. I never got that far.

In all likelihood, you'll buy two or three kitchen timers in your life and pay a paltry sum for each one. Just don't buy this one. Also, if you happen to walk by 423-427 West 127th St, New York, NY 10027, pick out a random designer and kick them in the nuts.

Located: The New Bunny Hole
Feeling: amused