Surveys in the Big Box

I have long thought that it would be cool to work for the Census department. For some reason I have been lucky enough to answer the long form once. I have also lived in an apartment with a special longitudinal census. For that census they asked me everything: how big were the cracks on my walls, how far did I live from public transportation, did my toilet flush most of the time?

The idea of collecting and aggregating so much information fascinates me.

That's why I was really looking forward to yesterday. In the past I have enjoyed conducting consumer research. You go to a retail outlet and promise a consumer some incentive if they will answer your questions. People like free gifts, and they like talking about themselves. I like listening.

In reality, yesterday was not amusing. I worked at a big box store. Even though I wore orthopedic shoes, the concrete was very hard on my feet; the shoppers were uncomfortable, too. The survey did not take 10 minutes the way the company promised. It was closer to 20. The company wanted pictures of shoppers, too, but at the end of the surveys I was too embarrassed to ask.

It was a concrete lesson in keeping surveys to the bare minimum. Sure, when you're sitting in the office and thinking about all the things you would like to know from consumers, it's easy to let your imagination run away with you. Don't let it.

I am sure of one thing: no one who took my survey yesterday will ever consent to take another one in the big box store.