The Case of the Overpriced Gym


Had my first secret shopper assignment today. It’s funny the waves of guilt and excitement that run through you when you’re pretending to be someone else. This morning, while carefully applying my wig and falsh eyelashes, I reasoned to myself that I had nothing to feel guilty about, after all. If the person is nice and is doing a good job, I can report that. And if he or she is a total asshat- well, when that happens, don’t you wish you had the authority to report them to the, um, authorities? It’s win-win, people.

I had the opportunity to do a test-driving shop too but that just seems too much work for the money. In fact, I don’t think there’s a sum high enough to get me to carry on an hour-long conversation with a car salesman, especially when it will result in them calling me every week for the next year. Seriously, even Mini Cooper wouldn’t leave me alone even AFTER I bought one of their cars!

ollie_smallAnyway, a fun morning spent spying and lying and now it’s back to the good old job lists. Maybe I should just go ahead and add CIA to the wish list, what do you think?

This entry was posted in Etc.. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Case of the Overpriced Gym

  1. bealtown says:

    I feel like you look so totally shifty when participating in “secret” shopping. Like you’re looking through a hole you cut out of a newspaper and your fake name is way to regal to ever be believable. “Hello my name is Katherine Elizabeth Carrington and I would like your assistance in purchasing some lunch meats. . .

  2. ollieoof says:

    Actually for me, my biggest problem is that I soon buy my own spiel. Like today, I totally thought for a second, “I should sign up for this gym. I can TOTALLY afford this.” Forgetting that my employed, rich cover could afford it and the real unemployed me couldn’t even buy a fancy bottle of water at the gym “cafe.”

    I actually took an empty Ethos bottle (that’s spy code for “yuppie water” aka Starbucks water) and filled it with water before I left my house. It was a very useful prop I think, all the more convincing of my false economic stature.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s