Measuring the toll of the doorbell for today’s pollsters
Daily comes another poll. So who are these pollsters?
Middle-aged Joan: “Takes nerve to walk to a strange house cold and ring a doorbell. Mostly hired are women who are age 50ish. Supervisors accompany first-time trainees.
“Doors now open less. Dangerous. In rich areas security’s tight. Doormen bar us unless we’re expected. Females fear opening a door except to a woman. Bad areas we do Saturdays. People are around then. Safer. Rich areas nighttime when the husband’s home. Or phone for an appointment and leave your card.
“You need friendliness. Intelligence. But don’t lead the person. Not those overly chatty or some lonely soul wasting your time. It’s people who invite confidence and don’t put words in an interviewee’s mouth.”
One rainy afternoon this pollster’s person couldn’t spare 10 minutes for questioning. Exiting, the pollster tripped and hurt her shoulder. Lying on the floor she said: “Long as we have to waste some time, how about answering the questions?”
Overall comment: “It always does take nerve.”
Their handbook teaches: Interview only one person per household — no visitor or temporary employee . . . Respondent may not fill out questionnaire himself . . . One person mustn’t answer for another, as in a man speaking for his wife . . . Interview only in the home not strangers on the street . . . If anyone exits an apartment house, ascertain the person actually lives there . . . When a third person tries peeking over your shoulder, edge away.
Also: Never record answers from an interrupter who speaks for the respondent . . . Each interview’s in strict confidence . . . Hold questionnaire so person cannot read it during session . . . Ask questions in direct order exactly as worded. All is carefully arranged sequentially . . . Do not indicate your own opinion by gesture or inflection . . . Double-check survey instantly upon leaving respondent . . . Do not return for anything unasked.
‘Kill’-ing time
Meanwhile, life — and its end — goes on. At least in the Hamptons Film Festival, starts tomorrow.
“Fresh Kills” is a mob movie about Staten Island hoods in the hood. Written, directed, starring Jennifer Esposito, the ex Mrs. Bradley Cooper.
She says: “I always wanted to go to NYU film school but couldn’t afford it. Not many role models of female directors then. This is getting great reviews.”
Set in the ’80s her R-rated kill ’em, shoot ’em film stars Annabella Sciorra. Anyone says it isn’t great could find an unresponsive body in his/her bed.
No peace in this period
More ladies: Emma Stone just co-produced the 19th-century European sexcapade “Poor Things.” It’s “Bride of Frankenstein,” plus some animal husbandry — whatever that means.
Out Dec. 8, it co-stars Mark Ruffalo and Willem Dafoe. Says Emma who plays hot Bella: “Sex is a major part of the story.” Right. Like I maybe thought it dealt with discovering radium.
Showing a farmer from Arkansas the beauties of NYC, Charlie said: “Some gals for an evening cost $1,000. Or $2,000.” The farmer: “Aren’t any nice respectable ladies here?” Said the local guy: “Yeah, sure, but you can’t afford their rates.”
Only in New York, kids, only in New York.
