The 5 Types Of Yelp Reviewers

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Oh, Yelp. It’s weird that I still place any sort of value in the rankings given on this place. It’s mostly because I have to. There are too many damn restaurants in my city for me to just go in blindly. So, in my travels and travails amongst the Yelpian rabble, I’ve noticed a few distinct characters, and I figured, why not share them with you nice people?

The Helpful Reviewer

What? Someone using Yelp the way it was actually intended? You know the rest of this list will be a shitshow when the sole purpose of the Yelp user is only the first of five categories. These are people who you’d probably have a nice time with if you actually ate with them in the restaurant they’re reviewing. They’re well spoken, polite, and have interesting things to say. Hell, they probably even tipped the waitress pretty well even though they only gave the place three stars. And that’s where the magic really lies for this group. Yelp is basically a graveyard of one- and five-star reviews. Granted, this is a problem with any service that offers a ranking system. People tend to not make an effort to rate things that are just okay; they’re only compelled to act if something is truly amazing or offends their very existence. Thankfully, this person is willing to let you know that the burgers are seasoned well but overcooked and that the waiter only comes by to check on you once the entire meal. But the place is cheap, so it’s a solid three stars.

The Aspiring Food Critic

It’s hard to say whether this guy is annoying or okay. A lot has to do with context. If he’s just slamming on the cook for her cooking technique and complaining that the plating doesn’t give off the oeuvre you would expect from this kind of dish, then he’s a chode. He can also give a glowing review and come off just as dickish, clearly trying to sound like he knows more things than he probably does. Then again, maybe he is an expert, and he’s lending you his expertise. What’s not in question is that he’s probably the guy who watches all of Gordon Ramsay’s shows, but is also the first person to talk about how Gordon Ramsay is really the John Grisham of the cooking world. By the way, if he says that, tell him to shut the fuck up. Grisham might not be Hemingway, but he writes a damn fine paperback.

The Comedian

This guy. This fucking guy. It’s not that I don’t love him. I do. He just doesn’t really add a lot of value. If I’m scrolling through a burrito joint’s reviews and I stumble on his diatribe about the texting conversation he was having with a random number that messaged him while he ate there and subsequently devolved into an argument over whether he is, indeed, the random number’s ex girlfriend, then yeah, I’m gonna read it. It’s funny. But if he’s only one of three total reviews and I’m hungry and just want to know if this damn steak sandwich joint is any good, I can do without the yuks.

The Guy Who Loves Everything

It’s hard to hate this guy. He’s just so exuberant. The man loves food, so any time he gets any, it’s like a gift from the gods to him. Every day he spends on Earth is another opportunity for him to put food in his mouth, even if it’s the worst chimichanga ever dropped in a fryer. But again, this guy is not helpful. I’m glad he enjoyed his time at Big Time Timmy Jim’s Dog Spot, but a little heads up about the sanitary conditions would have been preferable over his gushing about the rustic decor. By the way, “rustic” doesn’t mean actual rust–just a heads up, man.

The Guy Who Hates Everything

Look, we get it, man, the world dealt you a shitty hand, and you’ve been letting everyone hear about it ever since. But it’s really not our fault, okay? You can’t get mad when your sashimi tastes like raw fish, because that’s what it fucking is. Life doesn’t revolve around you. If you show up to a swank pad without a rezzie, yeah, you’ll have to wait in the cheap seats for a hot minute, pal. That’s how this crazy thing called life works. You don’t call ahead, you have to wait. You talk like a dickhead to your server, you get fewer refills. You order something traditionally served rare, IT AIN’T GONNA BE COOKED A WHOLE LOT. Get your shit together, buster.

Randall J. Knox (known colloquially to his friends as "Knox") left his native Texas a few years ago, and moved to Los Angeles in his '03 Buick Regal named LeRoi to write movies with his jackass college buddies. His favorite things in life include bourbon that's above his pay grade, mix CDs, and Kevin Costner films. He isn't sure what "dad jeans" are exactly, but he knows he wants a pair.

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