Editor’s note: War Stories is a semi-regular feature in which Art Shulman, president of Shulman Research, Van Nuys, Calif., presents humorous stories of life in the research trenches.

Neil Kalt of Neil Kalt & Associates tells about a focus group he conducted with life insurance agents. As is his habit, Kalt stood on the other side of the one-way mirror and watched respondents enter the room. When they were all seated he made his entrance.

The respondent incentive must have been good because he had a full house. But the room had a small conference table, so the table was packed by the time the last respondent, a fellow Kalt characterizes as “wolfish,” ambled into the room.

Surveying the situation, the wolf saw two empty chairs. One was in between two portly gentlemen, so he knew it was going to be a tight fit. The other chair was at the head of the table. The wolf looked at his two options, first the empty chair between the big guys, then the chair at the head, which he must have assumed had been taken by someone who, for whatever reason, was not now in the room.

Moving decisively, he went to the chair at the head, looked around once more, surreptitiously swiped the name card onto the floor, and with a look of satisfaction, sat down.

The name on the card was, of course, Kalt’s.

Kalt then entered the room, introduced himself, and informed the wolf he could keep his seat as long as he was prepared to lead the discussion. The wolf smiled weakly, moved to the empty chair and shoehorned himself into it.

Speaking of wolfish men, a moderator preferring anonymity cites a lesson she learned about enhancing the mood of clients in the back room. It seems that the night before her sessions were held, various prototypes of the test product, worth thousands and thousands of dollars, were stolen from the hotel room of the leader of the client contingent.

Thus, the clients, all men, were fully expecting to be fired once they returned to their company’s offices, and were in a foul mood. They retained their negativity through the first group, in the break between groups, and virtually through the completion of the second session. They exuded grumpiness, and were never satisfied with what the moderator did.

But toward the very end of the second session one of the respondents, an attractive, buxom lady, approached the mirror, and for some reason bent down. This resulted in part of her ample anatomy spilling out from under her blouse.

As those of you familiar with this column are well aware, this type of event is not that unusual. And, as is typical, the ogling clients roared with laughter, and their mood changed dramatically. Suddenly, they were warm and jolly, and courteous and complimentary to the moderator.

This taught the moderator a valuable lesson: If a respondent is to accidentally expose herself in front of a one-way mirror, try to arrange for it to happen toward the beginning of the first session rather than the end of the final session.

Sometimes clients can be scary to respondents, even if they don’t mean to be. Tony Memoli of Chase Manhattan Bank tells about some group sessions he attended a few years ago. He and his fellow clients in the back room had just finished eating sushi, and even though the group wasn’t anywhere near done, one of his colleagues had dozed off on the couch.

Suddenly, the door to the back room opened, and in stepped one of the young panelists, who had chosen the wrong door while on her way back to the session from the ladies room.

What she encountered stunned her - darkness, the smell of raw fish, snoring, and voices bellowing over the loudspeakers. When she found her way back to the focus group, she didn’t say a word for the rest of the night.

In future issues, we’ll report on more quirky, loopy, and strange happenings in the world of market research. If you’d like your story to be told - anything related to research is usable, from spilling soup on your client’s new suit to cute answers respondents provide on questionnaires - please e-mail me at artshulman@aol.com.