You Like It, You Love It, You Didn’t Forget about it, Did You?

Sometimes you really feel it. Sometimes you just forget.

We’ve now discussed your hot- and cold-take reviews (if not, read part one here), the reviews that either erupt from our fingers with fury, or else are controlled and composed, written under a calm hand. But we complex humans exhibit a diverse set of emotions, and our reactions to what we buy vary wildly even outside of those two extremes.   

Because we’re capable of so many more extremes. Sometimes it’s love at first sight (or bite); the review spills from your very essence, you can hardly contain your joy, and you must share it with others. Other times… well, you just bought this toothbrush because you needed a toothbrush. And it’s a toothbrush, do people not know how that works? Well, maybe you’ll write something?

Don’t worry, don’t make any decisions yet. We’ll break them both down, right reviewing now.

The Immaculate Acquisition

Ah, yes, perfection. Your expectations haven’t just been met, they’ve been courted, wooed, and taken on a breathtaking excursion from Mycenae to Santorini.

You never knew cupcakes could be a way of life, but they way they both lift and fill you, that’s what you’ve been searching for all this time. You don’t regret only now trying out the tri-blend trend, you just aren’t sure you’ll ever go back, and Holy Trinity knows you’re saving up now for the when four-blend descends from the heavens. And Cathy with a “C” not only served up soup and sammies with a smile, she saved your son from choking, taught him how to play catch, and cured his social anxiety, all before the lunch rush.

After experiences like this, you don’t need to be told to write a review. You’re compelled to share your story, how fortunate you feel that your life was touched by these cotton/polyester/rayon blends. The public at large must know the Graces that walk among them (they tag team the overnight shift at the diner). You’re pleased beyond measure, and even if you tipped well, you know that by writing this review, you’re not just helping out a restaurant or store, you’re perpetuating that feeling you’re holding inside, reliving the experience as you write.

And then what you’ve written will stand the test of time. It may be that the cupcake recipe changes, the shirt stretches and fades, or Cathy with a “C” finally settles down to work on that garden. But your review will always be there to remind you. It’d be a tragedy to forget.

For some purchases anyway.

Gotten and Forgotten

Hard as we work to earn our money, there are times when we don’t agonize or scrutinize every red cent we spend. Essentials are essential, and when a product or service will do the job well enough, we’re more than happy to save some time and ideally some money.

You don’t buy ethernet cables often enough to have formed an opinion. Light bulbs sit in the closet until they’re needed, and, well, they light up. Vitamins and supplements won’t have an instant effect on your body, face, or brain. So you’re not even sure if you can write a review. Or you’re not sure you have anything worth saying.

In the end, inaction is the preferred course of action. You could try to leave a rating with no review, cutting the time spent being charitable to almost nothing. But this isn’t always an option, sometimes they will ask for words too. That’s a dilemma. You’ve invested time in giving a star rating, but that’s all you want to give. You don’t have a strong opinion, the thing just worked. There’s no option for “just worked,” though. How long have you been debating this? Close that tab, abort, it’s not worth it.

But hey. Ahem. “Hey,” that email reads. “We’d like to hear how you’re enjoying your PS2 DDR dance mat.” You know you like it; this isn’t another case of “it works,” though thank goodness it does, eBay can still be hit or miss these days. “Hey.” “Hey, we’d still like to hear…”

No. It’s not worth your time. You’ve made up your mind, you do not hold strong enough feelings about this flash drive to write a review. The onions that weren’t supposed to be on your Butterburger aren’t enough to complain about. You’re above all that. Your time matters more. You have podcasts to listen to, news to read, social media to scroll.

But what if I told you there was something in it for you? What if I told you there was a world of perks and virtual recognition? I’m glad I have your attention, but that’s all I want right now. But remember, not all reviews are written with a clear conscience. Sometimes someone is willing to sweeten the deal for you. Sometimes it can get a little scandalous.