2.09.2006

stop your wining

I'm on Amazon a lot for work - checking out the competition, reading reviews for our books, checking out what recipes readers hated or loved enough to post user reviews about. And while I'm on there often I'll get distracted by the latest hipster CD release, or some sort of exciting new piece of groundbreaking literary fiction or something, or a kitchen appliance. Amazon = yay. And nothing is more yay than the personalized recommendations section, which generates in me a love so profound and an appreciation so deep that if the personalized recommendations section were a person, I would hide in my room curled in the fetal position holding imaginary conversations with him in my head and not actually ever leaving the apartment to talk to him in person and find out if, maybe, he loves me too.

The thing that's important to me when I'm filling out these reviews in order to generate my personalized recommendations is not that I actually own the things for which I check off "I own this," but rather that I already know it's something I want, and therefore I don't need Amazon to tell me to buy it. For example, I checked off that I owned America: The Book, because even though it is so 2005, I still sort of want it and (yes, I know I know) I haven't read it yet. Similarly I checked off that I own (I can't believe I'm admitting this) Norah Jones's second album, despite never having heard it, because I really liked the song "Lonestar" from her first one.

So I sign into Amazon and the first thing they tell me is that they recommend I purchase a set of two Riedel "O" wine glasses. I got really excited because the truth is that I really sort of do want a set of those glasses - they were the stemware of choice at a cookware launch party at which Jean-Georges Vongeritchen personally served me a plate of chicken he had cooked himself and I nearly soiled myself, but that's not the point. Also it's not really appropriate to describe the O as stemware, since what makes it all revolutionary and shit is that it doesn't, actually, have a stem.

BUT THAT IS NOT THE POINT. The point is. I was really excited, dorkily, and decided to find out why they recommended the glasses to me. So I clicked on "why," expecting to see that they had noticed that I had purchased parmesan cheese (shut up, I ordered cheese from an online bookseller) or that most of the items on my wishlist are made by Le Creuset or that I had actually been checking out a lot of wine books on the sly (you can't be a foodie without sort of becoming a ...winey?).

But no. They recommended these glasses - explosively popular, a little expensive, wry and witty as far as pieces of glass can be wry and witty, the Banana Republic of wine glasses - because of America: The Book and Feels Like Home. Liberal and wussy. Ergo wine drinker. Based on two things I lied about owning, they identified something I really actually wanted and made me realize how horribly painfully lame I am.

I hate you, personalized recommendations. You are dead to me.

God I'm too young for this. I'm crying a little inside.

Update: dudes, why did no one tell me that this was riddled with spelling errors? I thought you people were my friends.


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1 comment:

Kat said...

Speling erors are wat make u human and i wood not b ur freind if u were not human.

love kat