A few years ago, I was trying to think of little jobs I could do to bring in a little extra cash. Having a degree in painting is not particularly useful in finding a “real” job, so I turned to the internet in hopes of finding something simple I could do, with flexible hours and the possibility of working from home. For a couple of months, I took jobs as a Mystery Shopper.
Mystery Shopping is actually a rather interesting occupation, and is probably excellent practice for anyone who wants to be an actor. There are different types of Shops, but the basic idea is to act as a customer or potential customer of a business, and provide a rating of the business’s performance. The standard ad to get people into Shopping will say “Get paid to shop!”, though that’s not quite how it generally works. Some few people actually seem to make good money at it, but at such levels it’s quite time-consuming, worse it seemed than a normal job.
Anyway, I found I was fairly good at it. For most jobs (there was one exception, though I don’t think even there I was spotted as a secret shopper – I think the guy just thought I was nuts), people seemed to swallow my story hook, line and sinker. In the course of a few weeks, I was a student looking for a storage unit for the summer, a wife who wanted a bigger diamond ring, a minimum-wage employee looking to open a bank account, or a college grad looking for an apartment. I called bank loan centers (several in one day – I had to talk to about five different reps, and give different false info each time) to request lines of credit. There were jobs at fast-food restaurants that involved a simple meal-purchase and evaluation and would pay for the meal, and more complicated jobs at nicer restaurants requiring careful timing logs and specific orders, which also paid for the meal. It’s good work if you can do it well, and have a sharp eye for the important details.
The trouble was, I hated pretending. Even though I was providing a valuable service to a business (and ultimately the employee who was being evaluated), and doing nothing wrong, I hated walking through the door, engaging in a lively dialogue (and usually very friendly – I’m an introvert, but apparently I can be downright charming when I must) with a sales rep who actually believed I would end up buying, and then walking off, having taken up time they could have used on a real customer. I felt like I was using people. More importantly, I loathed misrepresenting myself.
After about two months, I stopped taking anything but restaurant and grocery shops. Those were easier on my conscience – I just had to order a meal as I normally would, but pay more attention (while not being obvious about it), or ask a store clerk where some item could be found. Shortly after that, I took a more regular job (one that often is found via mystery shopping), working as a merchandiser (someone who rearranges shelves in stores when new product lines come out). The work was simple, and I did it well. Better yet, I didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than myself.
For some people, pretending is easy. Natural. Fun. Certainly safe, and often necessary or even beneficial. For others of us, it just feels better to share our true selves, even if only to a few trusted friends. I’m glad I have friends out there who are willing to let me see their true selves. I’m glad that I can share myself, too.
Thanks.
-o.o-
