Imagine you signed up for something
nearly four years ago using your personal email address. It was a trendy thing you probably read about in TechCrunch
, thought it was interesting, and decided, “what the heck.”
Now imagine that you never hear from this company that received your email address four years ago, but you’ve continued to hear about this startup in the press. You’re increasingly hearing details like, “they expect you to pay 30 bucks a month for this thing that most people do for free.” They face a scandal of sorts
over their use of a technology commonly used for marketing that they decide to translate over to power users.
They get lots of positive buzz from prominent end users whose names you know, but you don’t understand why it’s such a big deal. Still, you’re willing to give it a shot.
But because they’ve forced you to wait so long, it’s created a lot of external knowledge about their service, allowing for the existence of harsh reviews that describe their service as “overhyped and overpriced
,” while even more favorable ones suggest it’s not for everyone
Now imagine, two years later, having completely forgotten about the first effort to sign up for the service, you sign up again under another email account. And despite signing up for that second account first, you hear back about an invite after two years, rather than four.
When you get the invite, you sign up. The signup process comes with a long form that takes a while to fill out, but you decide to give it a chance. After all, the guy who built this also came up with another piece of software you’ve used in the past.
You take a look out of curiosity, but then realize, “I’m not paying $30 a month just to kick the tires on this.”
Now imagine, four years later, having used email for four years without the benefit of some super-service to manage your messages, and you see this pop up in your personal inbox: