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.
Sharyn Kail of Elrick & Lavidge tells about a CATI programmer who works for a supplier out of her home. She was heavily involved in a problematic study which was going through numerous revisions, constantly necessitating changes to the CATI program. Since the programmer’s point of contact was the project manager, she never knew the actual name of the client dictating the changes.
When the dust settled, the client wanted to show his appreciation for the hard work the programmer had put forth, so he sent flowers to the programmer’s home. Enclosed was a note which said, "Thanks for the wild ride." The programmer did not recognize the name of the man who had sent the flowers, and had a really tough time of explaining the meaning of the note to her jealous husband.
At the end of October I was briefing a study at a telephone bank which was conducting a number of studies in addition to mine. Late in the afternoon, all work was temporarily interrupted while the company took an hour for a Halloween party. Everybody except me was in costume.
While waiting on line for Halloween cake, the fellow in front of me wondered aloud how his respondents would feel if they knew the person conducting the interview, a survey for a blood bank, was dressed as a vampire.
A client of mine would always complain that my price was too high when I provided an estimate, and tried to talk me down. NO matter what my price was, over a number of projects, he always wanted me to lower it. Most of the time I stuck by my price, but I was concerned about maintaining goodwill with the client. So, I decided on the tack of adding 10 percent to the cost estimates I provided him, then being more than willing to lower them when he requested I do so.
But after a while, my client no longer challenged my costs. One day he mentioned this, saying that he came around to realizing my costs were fair. But now he’s used to paying the higher amounts.
I hope he doesn’t read this column and recognize himself (or is it herself?). I’m not revealing his or her name.
Sue Gartzman of Explorations will confirm that market research can sometimes drive you buggy. She tells about conducting a focus group where a ladybug was on the table next to her name tag. Pretty benign, she figured, so she brushed it away.
The respondents came in and got settled. During introductions, she noticed another ladybug crawling on the table. She brushed it and it flew away. Then one landed on a respondent, who brushed it away.
When introductions were finished and the discussion began, Gartzman saw another bug fly in the air. She looked up, and the light fixtures were swarming with ladybugs. By now she was completely distracted and feeling really creepy-crawly, and her respondents were feeling a little strange too!
Fortunately, after stepping out in somewhat of a panic and alerting the facility operator to the situation, her group and a back room full of viewers were able to move to another room. She’d thought it was going to be the first time she canceled a group due to ladybugs!
Ken Altschul of Wolf/Altschul/Callahan relates an experience when he was moderating a group on print advertising executions. In the middle of the session a woman in some distress got up and started walking to the door. Just before she got there, despite crossing her legs, she couldn’t hold it in anymore and, unfortunately, began to urinate.
Even more unfortunately, as she did this, she somehow had managed to be standing atop the advertising to be studied.
The creative director, seated in the backroom, exclaimed, "I’ve had people comment on my work, but this is ridiculous."