I work in market research, designing surveys and focus groups for big brands and analyzing the results.

The field of market research is diverse and occasionally I get to try something outside of my typical responsibilities. Twice in my career, I’ve been a mystery shopper.

If you’re not familiar with the term, a mystery shopper is someone who’s paid by a retailer or service company to pretend they’re a customer and report back on the service they received.

Mystery shopping is a great gig because you’re paid decently for easy work that requires no special skill sets.

Both of my mystery shopping experiences were for banks. I’m told banks use mystery shoppers frequently because they expect high levels of courteous and professional service from their staff. Mystery shopping helps banks assess how would-be customers are treated and if staff are using the messages they’re trained to give.

In the first go-round, I was given a “backstory” that I had just inherited a million dollars, and I was a rookie investor who didn’t know what to do with the money.

My job was to share this story with a bank teller to see how the situation was handled. I was supposed to note who I was referred to, what tier of investing program they recommended, their messaging on why I should go with that bank, etc.

People inherit money every day but still, my scenario seemed a little farfetched to me. Why such a round amount? Who inherits exactly a million dollars? I was probably being paranoid, but I figured it would seem very obvious.

Also, who inherits a lot of money and then goes to random banks for advice on how to invest it? If you’re going to trust a bank, wouldn’t you go to your own bank? Who is just walking into banks without an appointment trying to invest 7-figure sums?

This is when I learned the challenge with mystery shopping — it’s essentially professional lying.

I’m no saint, I lie on occasion. But it’s something I avoid as much as possible because I’m not good at it. I have a low tolerance for guilt and no poker face. It’s a bad combination.

To ensure I didn’t make any mistakes, I named my fake husband and kids after my best friends. I developed a whole history of my relationship with the fake aunt who left me the money, which was completely unnecessary. No one asked, no one cared.

The first thing I noticed in my rounds is that surprise, surprise, bank staff are very nice to you when you have a million bucks to throw around. I was ushered into large offices and treated with deference.

Not that bank staff are usually rude or anything, but they’re not that nice.

I also learned how hard it is to fake your financial situation. I was busted when someone asked me whose name my RRSPs (Registered Retirement Savings Plans) were in and I said they were joint with my husband. Turns out you can’t invest in RRSPs jointly. Oops.

I’m pretty sure she figured it out right then because she seemed to be going through the motions for the rest of the meeting. I don’t blame her.

What was so sad is that the guy from the bank who was sponsoring the research really underperformed. He seemed so nice but he kept giving me misinformation and needed help finding forms and things. He also knew he wasn’t doing that well, which made it even more painful.

Then I looked over at his desk and there was a sign that said:

Be nice to everyone. You never know who might be a mystery shopper.

Luckily, I kept a straight face. You can’t make this stuff up.

In my second round of mystery shopping, I was supposed to be a solopreneur looking for a loan. This was years before I actually worked for myself, so I knew nothing about small business finances. I can’t remember what type of business I said I was in, but I know I spent some time researching it so I wouldn’t sound completely clueless.

This time, people were polite but a lot less solicitous. Turns out that when you’re the one who needs the money, people aren’t all that interested in you. Even though this was a fake scenario, I felt kind of rejected.

Fortunately, the person who gave me the most attention (we’ll call him Ben) worked for the bank sponsoring the research. He still told me a business loan would be a no-go, however.

Although both of my mystery shopping experiences were fun and added some spice to my work life, I was relieved when they were over. I never felt right lying to people and having them jump through hoops for me when they wouldn’t get anything out of it.

Karma came to bite me on the behind a week after my second round of mystery shopping. I went to a Blue Jays baseball game at The Rogers Centre. That stadium has 53,506 seats, but guess who I was sitting right next to?

Ben, the guy I mystery shopped with the week before.

As the expression goes, you could have knocked me over with a feather. What are the odds that I now have to sit beside this guy and maintain the lies I told him for the whole game?

Ben proved to be a nice guy when he remembered my name, greeted me warmly, and asked me how business was going. He wasn’t at work anymore, he didn’t need to care, but he did.

So far I’ve had no more mystery shopping requests and I have to say I’m kind of glad. I’m not cut out for professional lying. But if any hotel chains want to send me around the world to assess the service, I’m willing to put my game face on once more.

Source: https://medium.com/illumination/confessions-of-a-mystery-shopper-1a333e2a93d6