They want to know what I'm listening to
Some one has been trying to call me on my cell phone for the last few days. I keep just missing them.
Granted, I'm a great believer in voice mail and if the phone is downstairs and I'm upstairs, I'm not making the mad dash just to answer it after the last ring. I know I'm going to miss the call.
So this number I didn't recognize kept calling. And not leaving a message. I tried to call it back and got the beginning of a recording that I admittedly didn't listen to for more than 2 seconds.
Finally, they got me. Someone who was having trouble reading the script said they were the Radio Research Group (or something like that) and they'd surveyed me a few months before about my radio listening habits. (They had? Must have been in an alternate universe.)
Then she wanted to know if I had a few minutes for a follow-up survey. Sure. Why not. I'll tell you how I feel about the radio.
Basically, she asked what stations I'd listened to in the last 24 hours. Given that I'd spent some time in the car (driving to Wegmans of course), that involved every station programmed into the car radio. Unfortunately, I was forced to admit that I spent most of the time listening to WBEE.
Then she asked me my age and my race. And then said they didn't need to talk to any more 29-year-old white women with a secret country music addiction. (OK, she said they were full for that demographic.) After all that. Apparently they'll spend another 3 days trying to call me again in a few months.
What's odd about the whole thing is that there is no Radio Research Group. Could they have been the Radio Research Consortium? I guess unless I call them back, I'll never know. And given that I currently have no idea where my cell phone is, that's kinda unlikely.
Granted, I'm a great believer in voice mail and if the phone is downstairs and I'm upstairs, I'm not making the mad dash just to answer it after the last ring. I know I'm going to miss the call.
So this number I didn't recognize kept calling. And not leaving a message. I tried to call it back and got the beginning of a recording that I admittedly didn't listen to for more than 2 seconds.
Finally, they got me. Someone who was having trouble reading the script said they were the Radio Research Group (or something like that) and they'd surveyed me a few months before about my radio listening habits. (They had? Must have been in an alternate universe.)
Then she wanted to know if I had a few minutes for a follow-up survey. Sure. Why not. I'll tell you how I feel about the radio.
Basically, she asked what stations I'd listened to in the last 24 hours. Given that I'd spent some time in the car (driving to Wegmans of course), that involved every station programmed into the car radio. Unfortunately, I was forced to admit that I spent most of the time listening to WBEE.
Then she asked me my age and my race. And then said they didn't need to talk to any more 29-year-old white women with a secret country music addiction. (OK, she said they were full for that demographic.) After all that. Apparently they'll spend another 3 days trying to call me again in a few months.
What's odd about the whole thing is that there is no Radio Research Group. Could they have been the Radio Research Consortium? I guess unless I call them back, I'll never know. And given that I currently have no idea where my cell phone is, that's kinda unlikely.
Silandara Bartlett-Gustina was a Rochester outsider when she moved to the city at the turn of the millennium without even laying eyes on it. She quickly took root, declaring it the best place she's lived (including the UK, several U.S. states and Barbados). Now on the brink of her 30s, she's somehow transformed into a wife, mom, homeowner and freelancer. But she's determined to still have a life -- giving you an inside look at what makes Rochester a cool place to call home.
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