Phone Call From Marie, Research & Forecasts
The front desk person at the Parc Lincoln Hotel took this message from Marie. Marie worked for a company called Research and Forecasts, an independent research consulting firm that paid people like me $10 an hour to call homes and conduct surveys. I had some memorable conversations with nice people in this job, but those nice people were the exception. I can’t blame folks for hanging up, though, when I remember some of the illogical paths the questions took. One call in particular stands out in my mind: I called a house and asked if anyone had time to answer some questions about the Gulf War, which had recently commenced in Iraq. The woman answered in the affirmative, sounding every bit motivated to contribute to any cause, even a telephone survey, if it had something to do with the war.
“But first,” I said, reading from a script, “I’d like to ask you about household pests and bug sprays.” To which she asked “What does this have to do with the Gulf War?” To which I responded, but I have no memory of what I said, as she hurled the phone down in well-justified annoyance. Evidently the Gulf War questions were teasers for the real work of asking people about bugs. I don’t think I ever got to the Gulf War questions that night, so I wouldn’t remember what they were.
The sound world of the telephone is a fascinating realm. The most tantalizing moments at this job were when someone answered the phone. I heard swirls of background sounds, noises, and commotions. The sense of anticipation in the voice of the person who answered, that simple word “Hello”, could be stated as a question, as a sort of statement of fact, or as a demand. If I had a job like that to do over again I might see if I could extract and record just the sounds of people saying “Hello,” for it would be interesting to interpret the nuances. I guess I don’t need a job for that.
Some years later, at my first “real” job in New York, I sometimes passed idle hours at my desk dialing random telephone numbers in Manhattan, just to hear the answering machine messages people left. These little productions were, I surmised, the extent of some people’s public life, and as such I imagined they were taken fairly seriously. I imagined these 5-second announcements being rehearsed dozens of times, with frustration and perfectionism rising up from otherwise placid individuals.
