Sarah Hickey
I’ve always been a bit of a snob. Not in the classic sense where I judge my peers for what they wear or what they say–my snobbery manifested in my obsession with the finer things in life. My free time is spent finding ways to make my ordinary life a little more luxurious: an extra candle lit by my bedside table as I listen to the rain, pressed flowers carefully arranged by my desk, a collection of tea to fit every situation, for just a few examples. Naturally, I found myself writing more and more with a variety of instruments the longer I was a student. In interest of my affinity to lavishness, I’ve decided to embark on a journey to find the best pen (within my student budget, of course) and document it here.
I began my search with nothing but hope and jazzed up thoughts for the future. The cult following behind the Pilot G-2 pens made both quite a bit of noise and multiple promises regarding the quality, and I was excited to finally try them out. Both my expectations and spirit were high when I came back from Staples, the full pack (complete with 2 special metallic pens!) in the size .7 carefully tucked away in my shopping bag.
The opening of said package required minimal struggle and resulted in only one casualty (the edge of my right thumbnail), and, before I knew it, it was off to the races. The beginning swatches were promising, the ink readily pooling at the tip and sliding across the paper. The rich colors made even my horrendous handwriting look passable. As a leftie, I had spent the majority of my literate life dreading the inevitable smudges that would occur whenever I wrote in pen, but I could finally take a deep breath and relax with the Pilot G-2s. I finally knew what real peace felt like. Enthralled with the prospect of clear and colorful lettering, I packed these pens in my pencil pouch for the next school day, entirely prepared to give the model a 10/10.
Then it happened.
During a particularly gripping Government/Politics lecture, I set my note-taking pen down for just a moment to flip the page. Upon retrieving said pen and attempting to write again, I was horrified to see that while I was pressing on the paper and certainly moving my hand, absolutely no ink was coming out. Only pathetic indentations greeted my eyes as I peered down at my lecture notes, shaking the pen and clicking it once, twice, three times until a classmate elbowed me and uttered a slightly more colorful variation of “stop clicking your pen, some of us are taking notes”. No matter how much I bartered with the pen (both physically and spiritually), I wasn’t getting any more than a few strangled lines with white spots in between. Defeated and disappointed, I tried another G-2, only to meet the same fate after a couple minutes of writing. Only after waving them around like an idiot and applying pressure on different parts of the point was I able to coax a few sentences of ink out, but the damage had already been done.
I’ve found that this behaviour is very typical of the Pilot G-2s–they give a wonderful first impression but fail to follow up. I suppose that they garner some sympathy; they set the bar so high for themselves that they can’t help but fail. As a member of the gifted kid burnout club, this whole dynamic hit a bit too close to home.
Sorry, Pilot, but these broke my heart. And to the dedicated G-2 fans out there: things can be better, you know. You don’t have to put up with this for as long as you have.
Final rating: 6/10
Have a pen you want me to try next? Hate everything I just said and want to duke it out? Forgot what the Gov/Pol homework was? Get in contact with me at [email protected].