Editor's note: "War stories" is a regular feature in which Art Shulman, president of Shulman Research, Van Nuys, Calif., presents humorous stories of life in the research trenches.

During the course of my work, clients describe me in different ways - although none has resorted to the colorful language used by my ex-wife. When they refer to me as a "vendor," I imagine myself selling peanuts at ball games or collecting coins from candy machines. Others call me a "supplier," which brings to mind disturbing visions of drug deals or selling overalls to factories. Personally, I just love being called a "bean counter."

Recently we completed a study on travel, where we had the pleasure of counting lots of beans. For example, when we asked people where they vacationed, we spoke with lima beans (visited Peru), baked beans (Palm Springs), refried beans (Palm Beach), green beans (Ireland), chili beans (where else but Chile), and jumping beans (Mexico).

Not everyone pays attention to every word we market researchers say. Michelle Zwillinger tells of a focus group where she advised the female participants that there were people behind the one-way mirror. About 20 minutes later Zwillinger offered the participants the opportunity to try a new product designed for their feet. One woman, anxious to try it, began to take off her panty hose, in full view of the male clients behind the mirror.

That woman didn't remember that there were people behind the mirror. On the other hand, Zwillinger also remembers a group in which the woman to her left was very proud of her "new body," a result of her having lost a lot of weight. The woman intentionally, according to Zwillinger, let her minidress ride up over her thighs, and opened her blouse, knowing full well, as Zwillinger had explained, that there was a group of clients behind the mirror.

On the other hand, it's not only respondents who have problems with clothing. Joe Koerner of The Qualis Company recalls the time, early in his career with a St. Louis research company, when he was scheduled to present the results of focus sessions to a large New York advertising agency. Koerner was escorted to a meeting room and nervously lined up his charts and the overhead. Just before the agency account team came into the room he decided to check his appearance. He determined that his tie was straight, his shirt tucked in and the vest buttons on his new three-piece suit were perfect. And, just as the agency folks walked in, that his fly was open!

Imagine how Donna Tinari-Sigfried of Fundamental Research Group felt when, while moderating a focus group on a new product being tested as a promotion by her telecommunications company client, a respondent said, "I love this new promotion. My dad sent me a whole bunch."

"Your dad sent you these?" Sigfried asked, somewhat panicked, as a large contingent of agency and client personnel observed through the mirror.

"Oh, he works in advertising for [the client company]," explained the consumer.

From then on, Sigfried vowed to use the screening question, "Does anyone in your family or any of your friends work in ... ?" rather than asking just about household members.

Mike Halberstam of Interviewing Services of America reports that an elderly female respondent contacted in one of their telephone surveys asked how she was selected to be called. The interviewer advised her that her number came out of a computer. The indignant woman complained, "That's ridiculous! I have never, ever put my number into any computer!"

Kathleen L. DeWitt of KLD Marketing Research reports that while screening for respondents on a study involving baking products, she came across an elderly woman who was offended by DeWitt asking to speak with the "senile head of the household."

Once DeWitt assured her she was looking for the "female" head of household, the interview continued, with DeWitt asking, "When was the last time you had brownies in your home?" Her response: "Honey, we live in the woods. They don't come around here."

So much for senility, DeWitt concluded.