{"id":72468,"date":"2014-06-10T17:47:09","date_gmt":"2014-06-10T21:47:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=72468"},"modified":"2014-06-10T18:42:03","modified_gmt":"2014-06-10T22:42:03","slug":"sacred-rites","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2014\/06\/10\/sacred-rites\/","title":{"rendered":"Sacred Rites"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Crown\"<\/a>

William-Adolphe Bouguereau, Crown of Flowers<\/em> (detail), 1884.<\/p><\/div>\n

\n

The food takes awhile which gave us time to watch a waitress deliver a Dutch Baby and envelop us with its fragrant, perhaps sacred, steam. A tray of ruby grapefuit [sic<\/em>] juice in large glasses made me think of luxurious jewels. Obviously we had traveled back to a past time. \u2014A review of the Original Pancake House<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

When I was about twenty-six, a friend sent me a listing for a job at an online review site, which, at the time, had not yet gone public. It seemed to me a good idea to apply to lots of things, so I sent in a letter.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re looking for someone hip and quirky for this job,\u201d said the woman, Tyler, who interviewed me from San Francisco; she\u2019d mentioned an improbably high salary and a host of benefits and perks. \u201cYou seem hip and quirky. But we need someone more integrated into the Web site\u2019s community. I notice you have no reviews, no profile, and no \u2018friends.\u2019 We\u2019ll need to see more of a commitment.\u201d<\/p>\n

I attacked my new assignment with determination. I set myself a quota of ten reviews a day and implored everyone I knew to join my network. In my capacity as manager of the lingerie store where I worked weekends, I commandeered the computer, knocking out reviews of the coffee at the bodega on the corner (\u201ctoo subtle for the common palate\u201d), the new artisanal pizzeria (\u201ca horseman of the gentrification apocalypse\u201d), and the local nail salon (\u201cThe nail technician was slovenly and surly; her coat was soiled; she started cutting my cuticles without asking\u201d).<\/p>\n

While I placed a premium on quantity, I began to take my task seriously: I was appalled by the cavalier manner in which fellow reviewers dismissed small businesses after a single visit or graded spots where they hadn\u2019t bothered to wait for a table. I took special care in rebutting what I felt to be thoughtless and uninformed reviews. My tone became hectoring. <\/p>\n

It was pathetically easy to become popular in this Web site\u2019s universe. \u201cYou seem to really know what you\u2019re talking about!\u201d one stranger wrote me. \u201cI like your strong opinions!\u201d said another. In two weeks, I\u2019d acquired more than a hundred \u201cfriends,\u201d who complimented my every review with the pre-fab tags that indicated things were awesome, useful, or witty. I\u2019d achieved the honorific of \u201cNotable.\u201d On the message boards, I was put on someone\u2019s list of \u201cHottest Girls on the Site (NYC Area)\u201d\u2014presumably based on a blurry picture of myself posing with Mr. Met\u2014and had been awarded two \u201cReviews of the Day,\u201d for critiques of a cheese store and Pretty Nails.<\/p>\n

After some time, having met, apparently, my uninformed-harangue quota, I was invited to attend a \u201cNotables event\u201d at a midtown bar called Sapphire, so the higher-ups could see how I dealt with the community. The \u201cNotables\u201d\u2014a title bequeathed purely on the basis of review quantity\u2014arrived in full force. The theme was \u201cgangsters,\u201d or maybe \u201croaring twenties\u201d: several guys sported fedoras, three girls wore boas, and there was a plastic tommy-gun in evidence. One girl, for reasons I never ascertained, had on a Renaissance Faire\u2013style corset. \u201cThat\u2019s Julia S,\u201d I was told, \u201cthe hottest girl on the site.\u201d<\/p>\n

The event was sponsored by a jalape\u00f1o-flavored vodka, so that\u2019s what everybody drank. One girl started vomiting almost immediately. I found her a plastic bag. A joke video made by one of the staffers played in the background, but no one paid any attention, and you couldn\u2019t really make out the words of the parody song, which seemed to be a take on Mariah Carey\u2019s \u201cTouch My Body.\u201d There was light dancing.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019d like to fly you out to San Francisco,\u201d said Tyler, the woman at the main office. \u201cWe hear you\u2019re hip, and quirky, and handled the Notables really well at the Sapphire event.\u201d<\/p>\n

I went. The interviews took place in what might have been a set decorator\u2019s idea of an Internet startup, decorated as it was with dogs, Foosball tables, and expensive coffee gadgetry. The founders of the company were young and confident; one of them lounged on an exercise ball. I tried to project hip quirkiness with every fiber of my being.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe were really impressed with how you handled Angela,\u201d said one of the founders. \u201cShe\u2019s the Notable who threw up.\u201d<\/p>\n

The job didn\u2019t pan out; looking back, I guess that was some kind of fork in the road. Maybe my life could have been different. Maybe, had I been hipper and quirkier, my life would have been more straightforward and successful. Certainly I would still have, at the very least, my status as a Notable. But is there any point thinking that way? Sacred steam or no, there is no way to travel back to a past time.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The food takes awhile which gave us time to watch a waitress deliver a Dutch Baby and envelop us with its fragrant, perhaps sacred, steam. A tray of ruby grapefuit [sic] juice in large glasses made me think of luxurious jewels. Obviously we had traveled back to a past time. \u2014A review of the Original […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":178,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13115],"tags":[478,14255,14254,125,477,93,14253,14256],"class_list":["post-72468","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-our-daily-correspondent","tag-criticism","tag-customers","tag-internet-culture","tag-new-york-city","tag-reviews","tag-san-francisco","tag-startups","tag-websites"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nSacred Rites by Sadie Stein<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"June 10, 2014 \u2013 The food takes awhile which gave us time to watch a waitress deliver a Dutch Baby and envelop us with its fragrant, perhaps sacred, steam. 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