“Are you the primary grocery
shopper in your household?”
“Are you currently in the market
for a new dishwasher?”
“Have you ever lied for a living?”
For me the answer to all of the
above would be, “Yes.”
YES, the magic
word that will enable you, if you have the know-how and lack of scruples, to rake
in the dough as a “Focus Group Participant.”
I started out in this world of swindle
and scam after I was unceremoniously fired from my honest job as a front desk
receptionist at a gym and was facing destitution. My sympathetic boyfriend gave
me a list of numbers to call for extra cash.
“What are they?” I asked, wide-eyed.
“Focus group companies, babe. Just
call them up and register. Say you’re into everything they ask you about:
clothes, politics, smoking, drinking, blackjack, puppies, you name it.”
I nodded, dumfounded that it could
be so easy. It barely made a ripple in my conscience that I would be lying outright
for money. I mean who doesn’t lie for money? Most people go to work, smile at
their awful boss, exaggerate to their clients and lie everyday of their lives. Lying
is selling and “selling” in the wise words of Willy Loman, “is life.”
What I couldn’t have foreseen was
the rabbit hole of fraud and deceit I was about to fall into. To even scrape by
as a professional Focus Group Participant, one has to become a con artist, a
grifter, a flimflam man.
If you’ve never participated in a
Focus Group here’s a snap shot of how it works.
A Research Marketing Company is
hired by a large corporation to find people in a particular target group to
come in for an hour or two and share their opinions about a product or
marketing scheme. Participants sit in a
special conference room equipped with spy worthy hidden cameras and microphones
as corporate marketing experts sit behind a glamorous one-way mirror and take
notes on every answer, micro-movement and vocal crack. As a participant you are
usually paid between $50-$300 for your time, tax-free and totally off the grid.
It’s a sweet deal, especially if you are out of work and you can swing a few of
these a week.
To totally fleece these companies,
I learned to con my way into focus groups I had no business being in. To do
that, I had to get through the initial phone call. A perky guy named Steve
would call and say, “Hey Robin! We have a Focus Group coming up on the topic of
sport sandals, are you interested?” The
answer must not reflect desperation, but must be in the affirmative. “Sure Steve,
I have sport sandals.” And the heist has
begun.
There is no way to know what exactly
they are looking for, so hedge your answers. The caller wants you to qualify,
he wants to meet his quota as fast as possible so he can get to TGI Fridays and
pack away the jalapeno poppers. So he will hint at, or even give the answers he
wants.
Steve:
Do you tend to enjoy your sport sandals, a- daily; b- once a month; or c- only
on special occasions?
Me:
Um, well not everyday, but definitely more than once a month…
Steve:
It sounds like you’re not a daily sport sandal wearer, so lets put you down for
b.
See how Steve just helped?
Next, there’s a follow up call to
catch you in case you’re lying. First rule of a good liar: remember your lie. These
focus group people are crafty and they keep asking the same questions over and
over to bust a fraudulent participant.
Finally, once in the conference
room begins the swindle. The rule for a good swindle is to have a story, and once you start telling it,
feel it, believe it and tell it to the world (or just the people behind the
mirror).
Over the years I’ve does hundreds
of these. I’ve said that I was in the market for a boob-job and then answered
questions about my hopes and fears for the developments in implant materials. I
have tasted cheeseburgers, tried cigarettes, chewed gum and chimed in about
bank policies. I’ve even said I was a registered republican!
I was almost busted once when I
said I was a cat enthusiast and was the odd girl out among a bunch of women sincerely wearing bedazzled sweatshirts
with kitten appliqués. We told each other fun stories of our sweet kitty cats
and all their antics. I thought I had this one licked until the moderator
brought out plate after plate of cat food. Wet cat food. I almost vomited. I
was the only one who didn’t oh and aw at the prospect of cat food cans coming
with a shaker of freeze dried liver yum-yums to sprinkle on top. All eyes were on me, the weirdo without a
lifetime subscription to Cat Fancy. The moderator got a beep on her intercom from
the people behind the mirror. I was panicked, unless I thought fast, I was done
for! I quickly covered by saying I’d had a bad childhood experience involving
organ meats. The moderator relaxed and one tenderhearted cat lady took my hand
to console me. I was home free.
I’ve never really stopped the focus
hustle, just slowed down. Every time I think it’s over and I’m out, they call
me back in, “Hi Robin, it’s Steve, we have a group coming up about rose gardening,
are you interested?” And before I can stop myself I say, “Yes Steve, I have a
rose garden!” And the con is back on.
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