No, no, no.
The trick with grapefruit is a grapefruit knife, to wit:
Stand at the kitchen counter with the grapefruit under the palm of your hand, the grapefruit knife placed akimbo across the counter. Place a second knife, a carving knife of a delicate sharpness, above, to make (as it were) a square, of which you are the fourth side.
Quickly, without hesitation, use the carving knife to slice down through the grapefruit, halfway between the naveled ends, then replace the carving knife and release the grapefruit at the same moment. Notice how the grapefruit halves rock back and forth, leaking juices onto the countertop. Observe the juices on the knife.
Savor the image.
Now, after the halves become still, take each in turn and use the grapefruit knife to slice -- some reverence is not unwarranted here -- on either side of each section. Work slowly, methodically, watching the movement of the knife through each section. Take time to be careful. Never skip a section. Smell the juice. Feel it on your fingers. Is your mouth watering?
I think so.
When both halves are fully sectioned, eat them plain with a small spoon, sitting in the full sunlight of your dining room with the fruit arrayed before you. The presence of children is a delight, because, when offered some, they will wince if they have eaten it before, or take some gladly from your spoon if they have not: only once, of course; everafter, they will let you be.
Some sweeten it with white or brown sugar, or a bit of honey. Some add cinnamon, nutmeg or cloves. This is incorrect, since you will miss such amendments if, in harder times to come, they are not available.
Eat both halves, then take each rind and squeeze the juice into your spoon, supping it up as quietly as possible.
Smile gently at the children who now watch you with horror as you tell them that, when older and of more refined tastes, they will regret their unwillingness to accept your offer, given freely, on sunny mornings round the table. Tell them while they may not then weep, they will be saddened; but, that the remembrance of that sadness will strengthen their spirits in their own hard times, knowing that -- often, though not always -- the best of pleasures are those we learn.