Tales From Behind the One Way Mirror

A few weeks ago I found myself sitting in on a focus groups. Something I haven't done in a long, long while. Though I have written extensively about the practice. And as you can imagine, I'm not a fan.

Asking people to judge a commercial -- actually it's not a commercial, it's more like a wireframe of a commercial without the benefit of any craftsmanship -- is a faulty process that leads to faulty results.

It just does.

Ask the folks who were responsible for Apple's 1984 spot.

Or the team who worked on TV's seminal sitcom, SEINFELD.

They both tested miserably. But I'm not going to rehash old beefs with this evil necessity of modern day mass communications. Because one of last week's focus group produced what could be the laugh of the year.

You see, in the age of the pandemic, it's no longer possible to gather 6 or 7 regular blokes, stick them in a room, feed them wet tuna fish sandwiches, solicit their expert opinions on million dollar marketing propositions and send them home with a hundred bucks.

Now it's all done through the magic of technology, via laptops, iPads, and other internet-ready devices.

Which suits me fine. If I never have to sit on the dreaded other side of the mirror and pound down focus group lasagna ever again, I will go to meet my maker a happy fella.

So what made this focus group so memorable, other than it starting at the ungodly hour of 7 AM? Towards the end of the session, after the moderator had asked, "Is there anything you really, really HATE about this commercial?" for the umpteenth time, the subjects went silent. The moderator astutely picked up on their cues and sent them home for the day.

"Got it. Have a great weekend. And thank you."

And that's when all the focus groupies turned off their devices and vanished into the ether. Well, all except one.

He, meaning Chad, Tad, Brad or Qad, mistakenly left his iPhone on. And in his mad rush to the bathroom must have kicked the volume level up to 10. Treating a dozen stunned and well paid marketing executives to 35 seconds, make that 45 seconds because he was drinking coffee the whole time, or urinary hilarity.

It was the kind of moment we've seen memorialized as an internet meme or rebroadcast on local TV news station's as their levity ending piece of the day.

But there it was. IRL.

And after 30 plus years of doing these god awful focus groups, this one will always be the most memorable.

Thank you, Errant Pissing Guy, 29 from Hackensack, NJ, thank you.