I Don’t Share and I Don’t Care.

I don’t write reviews for Yelp because I don’t want you to go where I go, or eat what I eat. There I said it. I’m mean. Selfish. And happy. But really just mean, considering that even in my most delusional state where I believe Judd Apatow is reading my blog because he needs a writing partner for his next movie 99.9% of everyone else reading this is a good friend. Or family. Hi Mom.

Here’s the problem though.

If I tell you about the good stuff, like a good new restaurant, you will go there. Which is fine. You’re a friend. Or my Mom. But then you’ll tell other people – because my taste is impeccable – and they are not my friends. And before I know it I won’t be able to get into that restaurant without a reservation six weeks in advance. Absolutely not fine.

Sharing is caring I hear you say? I disagree, Care Bear. I’m hungry and I want to eat delicious things at the restaurant I told you about. Reviewing is ruining.

Here’s how I realized how mean I am. I went to a new yoga studio recently. It’s fantastic. It’s clean. There’s parking. They don’t play that yoga music that makes you want to kill whales. They got a small write up in Vogue, so Anna Wintour herself may have been there in warrior pose and her hair is still perfect above her skinny Chanel clothed body, so clearly its good. And the Olsens twins went there too. In a study of two they both look amazing. But the class was not full. You see where I’m going with this. As we all went into our final breathing exercise instead of being filled with love and light I was filled with deep panic and dread. Any one one of these yogis could leave this class as heady as I was about this great experience. They could wax lyrically about these amazing instructors; hit the five star review on Yelp, or tell their friends, and my yoga to the celebs space would be gone. I’d be fighting for parking, downward dogging with someone’s perineum closer to my face than it ever should be, or straight back at the yoga place with the whale sounds thinking I know why they name whales things like Moby Dick.

How do I know this to be true? Because when I needed a waxer I took your five star recommend on Yelp. Now you’re sweating into your upper lip hair to get an appointment aren’t you? By hitting five stars you gave me your spot. Apologies, bearded lady. Apologies for also taking your favorite hotel room too – you were right room 209 is “THE BEST!!!!” How are those rooms at the back with no view? And I loved your sandwich shop recommend too. I hope you packed lunch because you’re right, you have to get there early or all the bread is GONE!

Sharing is truly not caring. It’s saying you can have everything good in my life. Just park here and take over.

And let’s not even talk about the press reviewing. That yoga article in Vogue was tiny. But the day my favorite “local” restaurant in New York got a review on Taxi TV I nearly threw myself out of the backseat, but they lock the doors when they’re driving to prevent exactly that kind of thing. (Too bad, I’d seen Transporter and was sure I could do the dive and roll.) What this meant was every New Yorker, and tourist, would  be eating the most delicious lobster pasta in a place that only seated about fifty people. The place I went into at the and of the day and always played the theme tune from “Cheers” when I walked in (in my head) would no longer be mine. And I was right. It got so busy the dish actually went off the menu. Presumably because they felt bad about killing that many lobsters, or because the influx of new people meant they could try new menu items. Do you know how hard it is to live in New York without decadent lobster pasta treats friends?  It stinks like having a dead possum under your house.

That’s the one Yelp review I did write. For a dead animal removal service. Why? Because I had a dead animal under my house. And because the guy was really good. He told us the dead thing making our home smell like a CSI crime scene was a possum just by smelling the air, which is Bear Grylls cool. And, he was right. (Yes, he showed us the posthumous possum.) His price was fair, he was punctual. But most importantly I reviewed him because I don’t need dead animals removed on a daily basis, like I do my yoga, or my table for lobster pasta. So, yes I wrote that review, five stars for West Coast Trappers.

So, what’s the balance here? I keep taking all your good recommends because you’re sprinkling stars around like breadcrumbs to the house of candy/ pasta and I just live in fear you’ll just find my favorites eventually? Truth is time balances everything out. And quality services win. I recently went back to my local lobster hole and I was welcomed with open arms, and 680 calories of deliciousness. And no tourists. A good place is always a good place. I may have to endure a few closer than a comfort yoga classes to support a great new business, maybe with a few inhales and some sharing is caring mantras.

In the mean time,  respect to you unselfish Yelpers. And respect to you secret guarders. I hope you all find pain free waxing, pasta that makes your heart warm, and a yoga studio as good as mine, and Anna’s.

No I’m still not saying where it is. Or the restaurant name.