Can I start a new career as a Marketing Focus Group participant? I’d really like to and here’s why. They feed you. They pay you. You meet new people and you talk about interesting products, concepts and ideas. Oh, and all the Diet Coke(t) I could pour down my greedy little throat.

Let me back up. A few months ago, a dear friend poured coffee on my beloved, but now dead apple. Feeling bad about what he’d done, he forwarded me a posting from Craig’s list about a focus group for owners of luxury vehicles. (I knew the mommy wagon would help get me ahead in life) This focus group offered $350.00 for 3 hours of my time. I figured I could use $350.00 and that my time was worth at least that so I followed up and sent them an e-mail offering to take their money my services.

You can imagine my surprise, when they returned my call and offered me a slot in the group. On top of this, they had raised the offering to $500.00, which was much more in line with what I truly believe my time is worth. Much like the crushing defeat the rebels of Grenada felt when our beloved President Ronald Reagan squashed their uprising with the full might of the United States Armed Services, I was crushed when they told me the date I was to report. It was the day that I was to be on an airplane to spend a glorious weekend in NYC with MW and his lovely Husband, who I think I’ll start calling LH for lovely Husband.

Alas, my dreams of living off other people’s money were put on the back burner and I reluctantly returned to my workplace with renewed vigor (ok, I actually typed that with a straight face).

Then, on Monday afternoon, it happened. I received a telephone call from, I’ll call her Vicky cause, well, that was her name, inviting me to partake in a special focus group.

The topic was dog food. How exciting, knowing that my time and energy would go towards making the world a better place for pets like Stella and KoKo. My input would guide a company forward in its quest to make profits provide healthy nutritious foods.

I was honored to share my unique knowledge with them at a gross profit of a whopping $75.00. Apparently pet food doesn’t pay as well as luxury vehicles.

Arriving for the group 15 minutes early, anxious to make a good first impression, I realized that I had forgotten to shower that day. “I’ll keep to the edges of the room, keep a little distance and nobody will be the wiser” I thought and luckily it worked. I didn’t want to risk this new profitable venture I was beginning.

They offered us a selection of sandwiches (with chips) and beverages and then they took us into the room with a wall of mirrors and began their study, poking and prodding us for input, grinding us for clarification on our thoughts and feelings, pounding the information they needed from us like residents of the Guantanimo Bay resort in sunny Cuba.

Spent, from the emotional adversity forced upon us, we slowly filtered out of the room. The sharpness of the light burned our eyes as we made our way towards the exits, only to be stopped at the door where they slipped a white envelope with our names carelessly scrawled across the front. Oh, we took their cash. We took it for the pain, the blood, the sweat, and the emotions they’d take from us. I took their cash (and another can of Diet Coke) and headed out into the night, exhilarated with this new experience, hungry for more focus groups.

I took their money to dollar drink night at the Chicago Eagle. I figured, hell, I have $75.00 how many $1 drinks can I get for that? I never figured the answer out. I went to public school and math is hard.