M.W.F.D.

If you can guess the title, i'll tithe you in on my $100 loot. Fair deal?

Had a new, strange and weirdly invigorating experience last week. I turned up for a product focus group. A marketing exercise. Cash in a windowed envelope (non-consecutive notes, please), slid across the table at the conclusion of the night.

Bought and sold like some.... some.... product. And weirdly, I don't mind.

The night felt like something out of a movie, or at least a tired script. Which is to say, I never gave credence to the accuracy of those movies (don't make me name them) - I didn't think rooms like this existed.

I walk downstairs beneath a restaurant in Surry Hills. Past the toilets, turn right, down the corridor, "it's the room at the end". Don't look too closely at the room on your left, though; it's a media control room. A half-dozen cctv screens, mixing desk, microphones, sound inputs.... all feeding back a forlorn picture of a faux-homely living room. A pink-tinged space, dominated by a large table with a dozen rattan chairs paying homage to the lure - a plate of sambos and assorted drinks at the centre. Fake pink flowers in a ceramic vase. And four cameras and microphones dangling from the ceiling, fake eyes and ears staring at the table...

Along with an entire wall covered with a translucent one way mirror - for external observation - things started to feel to me like a mafia card game performed under intense scrutiny. One group colleague was compelled to try and 'see through' the mirror, testing all sorts of angles and reflective devices. I was too, except that'd be akin to proclaiming a love for The Bikini Shop. Erm, which I definitely don't. I think. Well anyhow, there's the 'tired movie script' tie-in.

(And so here's the t*ts and @ss blog I promised. Ok, pretty poor. Must try harder.)

Apparently this is not new: a number of people i've spoken to since have confirmed the existence of a secretive network of these purpose-built rooms, shady denizens of sinister marketing manoeuvres. At least that's the Hicksian* part of me talking, with which this experience doesn't sit quite right.

More than anything though, I went along (apart from money, which ties in to the title... you got it yet? M is for 'Media'...) simply to experience sitting in a room of strangers, smartly steered by a facilitator, discussing our media and consumption habits. The product? Lotto. The participants? 7 Men aged 23-30. None were lotto players, indicative of a demographic. Content of discussion? Thematically - Dreams. Money. Literally - how do we sex up lotto for young people?

I doubt my input was as useful as others, though. Most people spoke from the first person without hesitation, almost as though the product was an extension of their everyday lives. A chunk of my input was more third-person oriented; i'd try to guess what the motive behind the question or discussion was, then present my thoughts/ideas with the motive in mind. To explain, it's like stepping outside of myself to deliver my ideas while guessing the observers objectives.

I'd love to say this focus group and constant moneytalk awoke a greedy beast within. The good news? It did. The moment that whoresome (second letter in title for you...) envelope flew into my hand, a vortex sucked me across to Golden Pide on Cleveland St for a sucuklu pide.

Greed never tasted so good.

HSL

*Bill Hicks, whose extreme cynicism of the media led to a comedic skit with a mantra of "people in marketing or advertising, kill yourselves".