I love watching Super Bowl commercials, but in every other way as a consumer, I am an advertiser’s nightmare.
When I read a magazine or newspaper, I flip past the ads without a glance. It’s even worse with TV commercials. By the time the endless list of potential side effects rolls across the screen, I have blanked out the name of that exciting new medicine that will cure me of… what was it again?
One time, while strolling through the Woodfield Mall, a pretty young lady with a clipboard asked if I would be willing to go into a room with her for twenty minutes or so to take an advertising survey. If so, I would be given twenty bucks.
Well, heck, I had twenty minutes to spare.
Don’t get the wrong idea — it wasn’t that she was a pretty girl asking me to go into a private room with her. It’s just that I’ve always been a sucker for clipboards. And who says no to a clipboard-cutie offering to expand your collection of presidential flashcards?
She sat me in front of a TV and asked me to watch two short commercials and then to answer a few questions about them.
When the ads came on, I focused hard on them. I wanted to ace my test afterwards. After all, who wants to disappoint a pretty girl with a clipboard?
The ads were two different versions of an orange juice commercial. Both were pretty similar, with appealing images of green groves filled with plump dewy oranges, and slow-motion shots of clean, pure juice tumbling into a frosty glass. Meanwhile, a voice told you why you couldn’t live another moment without running out and buying some of that juice for yourself.
After the ads were finished, the pretty clipboard girl came in and asked me several questions. With each answer, she smiled and made a mark on that provocative clipboard.
“What adjectives do you remember being used to describe the product?” the girl asked.
Eager to show that I was a man with a working knowledge of what an adjective is, I told her, “Well, I remember words like pure, natural, refreshing, healthy….”
Each adjective was met with a smile and a check.
I was killing this quiz!
“Just a couple more questions,” she finally said. I squiggled to the edge of my seat, ready to ace this final. “Where did the commercials say you could buy this product?” she asked.
I panicked a bit, because I couldn’t remember if the subject had ever come up. I mean, you’d get it at a grocery store, right? You wouldn’t look for it at a hair salon or a muffler shop. Was this a trick question?
“You mean, which specific stores?” I asked, stalling for time.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever you remember,” she said.
I took a stab at it. “I think they said you could find it in the refrigerated case at the grocery store.” Actually, I didn’t remember them saying anything like that, but that’s where I’d go to look if I got a hankering for some juice.
She smiled and made a mark on the clipboard. Whew. Bada-bing!
“Just one more,” she said. “What brand of orange juice was being advertised?”
My jaw dropped. I racked my brain, but nobody was home up there. If they had ever mentioned the name of the product — and I was certain that they must have — it didn’t stick.
The pretty girl poised her pen over her alluring clipboard, just waiting to make her mark. Her eyes gaped as the seconds ticked by.
Just pick one, I told my brain. Say something. Anything.
But I was in such a state of panic, I couldn’t remember what any orange juice companies called themselves. I scanned through every brand name I could recall on the spot, hoping that one of them might have something to do with orange juice.
(Juicy Fruit? Carefree? Summer’s Eve?)
The pretty girl blinked and cocked her head to encourage me to say something. Anything.
(Purell? Cascade? Skippy?)
Blink. Smile.
“Uh… I think it was StarKist,” I stammered.
The pretty girl made a mark on the clipboard, but I don’t think it was anything like the marks she made after all my winning adjectives. She still smiled, but this time it was a “Sorry, Charlie” smile.
I wanted to explain that I meant to say Sunkist — which would also have been the wrong answer, but at least I would be striking out in the right ballpark.
But in the end, I just kept my mouth shut. Because sometimes, when somebody is looking at you and wondering if you are a total idiot, it’s best not to open your mouth and remove all doubt.
She handed me a check and thanked me, but I was reluctant to take it. She insisted that I take the money — she probably figured I would need it for meals, because it might take me a day or two to remember where I parked the car.
I took the money and scurried back into the anonymity of the busy mall, where every wall and window was festooned with advertisements for every product imaginable — none of which I can remember.
To this day, orange juice gives me a stomachache. And whenever I see a pretty girl with a clipboard, I lower my eyes and quicken my pace.
And Sunday’s Super Bowl ads? They were great, but don’t ask me what they were selling.
TR Kerth is the author of the book “Revenge of the Sardines.” Contact him at trkerth@yahoo.com
