Ten ways, of course*

Ah, summer. It’s got us by the neck here in the greater Philadelphia region, literally—when you step outside in weather this hot you can just about choke on the chewy, steamy air. Seems like folks don’t want to think too hard until the mercury comes down a bit—and even if it’s not quite 100°F where you are, I’ll bet it’s getting to you, too. But ten minutes? Everybody’s got the tail end of a coffee break or those last minutes before powering down the laptop for the day, waiting to be put to better use. Here, a few starters for the next time you can steal 10 minutes:

1. Go through recent emails, or sit and reminisce for a minute (just the right speed for summer “work”!). Write down the last three compliments you got from satisfied customers. Ask your web-person to put ‘em up on your website.

2. Early in the morning or late in the day, take a photo of your building in the gorgeous summer sun. Get that up on the website as well, with a map, so folks can find you more easily—and start to feel like they “know” the place before they even arrive.

3. While you’re taking photos, have a staffer or a friend take yours outside. Better yet, have your friend make it a group shot of you and the whole staff. If you haven’t updated your photo in a while (remember to smile for the birdie regularly), the warm tones of the summer sun will do wonders for any willing helper’s photography skills.

4. Read a magazine. Some folks might recommend you keep headlines and concepts from articles in your swipe files, and that’s great, but I’d like you to look at the advertisements. Take ten minutes and learn what folks with budgets way bigger than yours are emphasizing right now—fears? hopes? escapism? realism? Write down a few tips you can take from the mood of the moment—and will you go their way or make your own way?

5. Meet a neighbor. I know, I’m forever recommending that you extend your reach, and find out what your customers are thinking, but this idea’s more casual. In ten minutes you’re not going to make a sales pitch or pick anyone’s brain. Say hi to the owner of the business next door, ask a question you’ve always wondered about what they do, and say you were just taking a minute to stand up and look around you. Don’t get anxious about it, it’s not the introduction that’ll launch the next Tesla Motors … or maybe it is. You never know what a little “hello” can start.

6. Pick up the cigarette butts outside your building. Won’t take more than ten minutes, makes a world of difference.

7. Finish something you dropped the ball on. I don’t know what it is, but you do. Whatever that thing you dread is, take ten minutes and get it over with. (I had to take my own advice on this today, and it didn’t hurt a bit. Mostly.)

8. Read this blog. Start to finish, if you have more than ten minutes. Start now, if not. This is a guy I adore for his ability to turn ten minutes… into lemonade. Great reading in summer or anytime.

9. Read this book. So good I read it twice… and I keep coming back to it. Okay, it’ll take you a little longer than ten minutes, but it’s such a zippy read you can go through it in 10-minute chunks over several days, or devote a night to it and say to your neglected spouse, “Wow, tonight went by like it was only a coffee break!”

10. Stay hungry. (Do click through—Mark Stevens said it so well last week.) This is one of my most deeply held beliefs—that hunger is critical to maximizing potential—yet one I’m conflicted on, too. So much of the great creative, scientific, and business genius in history has come from hungry young men and women. There’s a spark to the early work of so many people that isn’t there in later years. Does this mean younger people have some advantage in cranking out the awesomeness?

(This won’t surprise you…) I don’t think so, if we’re willing to dream big, work hard, create big, bold, Maximum experiences, and stay hungry. If Renoir could do it until he was in his late 70s, why not us?

Got a ten-minute tip that’ll put a little summer zing into someone else’s business? Take one minute and share it in the comments!

Grow and be well,

Kelly Erickson

*Yes, folks, I’m on a tens-kick, leading up to the 500th post (coming soon!) here at MCE. Why? Because being on a 500s-kick would be too loooooong!

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It packs a wallop!

Imagine yourself the owner of a pink-and-white dog grooming boutique.

Puppy Pampering by Paulette, let’s say. (Must we? Bear with me. To create Maximum Customer Experience, sometimes we must imagine such things.)

I meet you at the every-other-month Chamber of Commerce luncheon, and I mention my new Wolfhound puppy. We get to talking about shampoos and puppy brushing, and you and I hit it off, so you hand me your card. You know, the one with the blue-cloud background and the cartoon dogs with the kid typeface that was oh-so-cute at the U-design-em business card website. It’s not much of a card, but you seem like the kind of person I’d love to drop my dog off with. So what about the cheapo card?

Well, I’m kinda busy, so I forget for a while about treating my dog like the itty-bitty princess that she is, even though I drive by a shop with big sunny windows and a no-nonsense sign out front every morning on my way to work: no name, just Dog grooming, reasonable rates.

Every week I see an ad in the paper for half off doggy manicures. There’s a blurry picture of a frolicking dog, and a fun distressed font telling me to mention this ad. But I’m kinda busy (well, okay, I’m doing the crossword when I see it—I count that as busy), and whenever I do think of dealing with her unruly fur and that itch she seems to have developed, I wonder where your card went. You seemed so nice. The kind of person I want to give my money to.

The Chamber of Commerce luncheon rolls around two months later, but I’ve got a client meeting. The next one, there’s a speaker I don’t want to miss, so there I am—and hey, there you are! I forgot that this is where I met you!

I remember your face but I can’t remember why. Then you come up and ask me about that Wolfhound of mine, wow, she must be growing, and it all comes back to me.

“Can I get your card again? I’ve lost it and I must have thought of getting in touch with you a hundred times, but you know how things are….”

“Absolutely. If you ever lose the card again, it’s easy. I’m right on the main drag—”

“Jeez, I’ve only seen one groomer there. That one with what they call ‘reasonable rates.’”

“Yes! That’s us. And you can always get our number out of the paper. We’re in there every week with a coupon.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen that.”

“Next to the crossword, every Saturday. We figure people stare at that section for a long time.”

Sure, I’ll probably do business with you now. When I get to the place I’ll see that the big picture window brings light into your pretty pink-and-white boutique. While I’m in the place, talking with you again, I’ll be sure my dog’s going to get the care she deserves.

But you took four months to hook me. And a lot of other folks aren’t going to have those personal interactions outside of your working hours.

Those folks, you’ll never get.

Well, Paulette, now imagine you’d handed me a card as cherry-blossom pink as the store that first time we talked. With a fanciful typeface, far from my workaday life, that just begs for busy mommies to bring in their doggies and show them a little extra lovin’. An illustration that reinforces the message again.

Imagine the outside of your store is as welcoming and full of personality as you are when I meet you at the mixer. Imagine your signage dovetails perfectly with the card I’ve got in my pocket. Name. Typeface. Upscale image. Colors.

Imagine that newspaper ad fits into the plan as well—right on message for those dog-mommies who can’t resist spoiling their critters, and integrated, once again, with everything else I’ve seen and what I know about you.

I’m going to mess with your dainty image now, Paulette, because here’s what you’re doing to your Ideal Customer when you send one message to me at every point of interaction:

BAM!

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Left cross, right jab, and before I demonstrate that I know as little about boxing as I do about dog grooming—

Knockout brand punch!

How to deliver a brand punch that shortens your sales cycle:

1. Look (visuals, image)—Be consistent across all platforms. We could have gotten more complex and thrown in your website, for instance, and plenty of other points of interaction as well (packaging, uniforms…).

2. Message—Speak to the Ideal Customer. As a small business, you don’t have the time or the money to do complex campaigns targeting fifteen segments. Speak only to that person, and folks who can relate to that person will also be drawn in. Speak to 15 people and no one’s drawn in. Don’t miss an opportunity to describe how you’ve got the Ideal Solution to her pressing problem.

3. Voice—Related to both of the above. The distressed grunge typeface might be fun, but it “speaks” to the wrong people, so voice can sometimes be a visual. Should the signage out front sound insecure, mentioning “reasonable rates”? The coupon in the newspaper may also speak in the wrong voice… should upscale boutiques be offering a coupon every week?

But it was cheaper not to do the exterior. The ad was done up by the newspaper people. And I got those business cards for free just for letting them send me some spam!

Paulette, It took me four months to do business with you. And I wanted to. (When I thought of it.) Integrated Experience isn’t a frilly get-around-to-it-someday expense. It’s your critical business tool to get customers saying:

“Oh! I’ve seen them before.”

“I remember them. Wonder if they’re good?”

“Well, they’re everywhere. That counts for something.”

“It gives me a smile every time I see that pink-and-white building… Fifi could use a shampoo and a trim.”

BAM! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Knockout brand punch!

In the comments: Got any crazy stories of a company like Paulette’s that took forever to hook you because you couldn’t see how their look, message, and voice were supposed to work together? I’d love to hear from you!

Grow and be well,

Kelly Erickson

P.S. No Wolfhounds were left itchy in the making of this story.

P.P.S. You’re invited to get some brand punch into your company website today choosing VisionPoints’ Website Audit or Web Experience Solution. We’ll work on your left cross, your right jab, and the sweetest upper cut you ever saw. Or we could just skip the boxing stuff and help you make more sales.

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Working hard…

Big project. Biiiiig project. Papers from the newest section of the project keep flying all over the place when I pull them out of the project folder. Makes me look sloppy, plus it’s driving me crazy. Heading over to a meeting, I pass my favorite office superstore and decide to pop in to use a stapler. People make copies there all the time, they’re bound to have a heavy-duty stapler, right?

Sure they do, but unlike their regular staplers, it’s behind the counter. I hand over the 50-page chunk and thank the customer service person profusely for his help.

He comes back and hands over the neatly stapled papers, and asks me to wait a second.

He rings it up.

“Sorry,” he says, clearly embarrassed. “That’ll be 2¢.”

I was more surprised than annoyed (after all, I did get a staple out of the deal). I handed over the two cents.

My advice to you, should you ever find yourself with such a pitiable task as to charge a customer for what amounts, essentially, to nothing: let them walk with a smile. Stick your own two cents in the till when they’ve gone. It would have been worth the goodwill.

Hardly working…

New restaurant. The Kid’s been dying to try it out. I decide it’ll make a nice weekend splurge, so we go.

“I’ll have the XYZ,” I say.

“Would you like that in our dinner combo that comes with bunches of other stuff?”

“Oh, yes. I wanted two of those three items but I didn’t see them. I’ll take the combo, but don’t put the third thing on.”

“Want double of the other stuff instead?”

“Sure! I’ll share it with The Kid. Thanks!”

A few minutes pass.

“Sorry, Miss. We can’t do double of the other thing.”

“Oh. Well, okay, then, as we said. The combo but without the third thing.”

Again, no harm. I got what I wanted, The Kid shared my side orders anyway, nobody starved.

Should you ever find yourself in this situation: two choices. Don’t promise it if you don’t know it’s possible; or if you’ve promised it, fercryingoutloud, make it happen. It wasn’t the end of the world but especially when your restaurant is new, you don’t want to give people the feeling that you have even slightly incompetent service. Leave that for when you’re more established, like…

This Experience is broken

The Kid and I have a super-favorite restaurant near our place. When a Monday has just been too darned Monday, you may find us there, watching sports on the telly and the fishies in the beautiful tank, hashing over the day, taking our time with our meal, and making sure at least one server has a reason to come in on the quietest day of the week. Like many former restaurant people, I treat our servers very well, and they love us in return.

(Mondays being what they are, I have never understood why everyone doesn’t cry Uncle and let professionals cook for them on Mondays. But I digress…)

I’m no millionaire. We don’t go weekly, but we’ve lived near the place for five years and been regulars all that time on a mighty quiet day. Let’s just say they get the drink order ready when they see us walking up, and they never forget that The Kid wants crayons and a kids’ menu to draw on.

Said restaurant provides salty munchies* when you sit down, to take the edge off as you consider the menu. Probably to pump up the drink orders, too, which is a time-tested, smart move for any restaurant where the bar may make up a good deal of the tab. That may originally have been part of why I liked the place. A single mom with a hungry little kid is thankful for anything that comes out right away and makes the evening more relaxing.

A while back we went in on a particularly Mondayish Monday, when even my racing to let professionals cook for me was hours late. We were starved and cranky and dying to head to a place where we can leave our troubles at the door.

We sat down. Our server came by with a wave, no salty munchies in hand. We ordered drinks. No salty munchies were offered. The drinks arrived; no doggone salty munchies. In my most polite, hey-we’re-all-buddies-here voice, I mentioned to the server that we’d love our little bowl of munchies whenever he got to it, no rush of course ho-ho, everybody gets busy (the place was very close to empty), just that we’re super-starving today…

“We don’t do that anymore.”

“Oh! No munchies anymore?”

“No… no munchies before you’ve put in an order anymore.”

I wasn’t quite understanding. “No munchies… before we’ve put in an order?”

“I guess people weren’t eating dinner, just the bowl of munchies. So now you have to order first.”

And true to his word, folks, though this man has served us literally dozens of times before and of course! never been stiffed by me, he waited until after we’d ordered to bring the blasted salty munchies.

Not only that, but in the three times (I say two times, but The Kid’s arguing with me so we’ll let it be her way)—in the three times we’ve been there since then, every darned server, folks who not only know what we usually order but even know what we’ll order when we’re feeling like changing it up or when we’re really going hog-wild—every server has withheld our munchies until after we’ve ordered the meal.

On a Monday, the meal comes flying out of the kitchen so fast that sometimes we don’t even take a bite before it’s time to start in on the main course. This, folks, is not relaxing. So whether it’s two times (!) or three, it’s a lot fewer visits than usual.

All over a bowl of munchies being brought out at the wrong time to a couple of their most loyal and best-tipping customers.

If you run a well-established restaurant and you decide to make customers feel like criminals by implying they’ll chow your free food and dirty your table just for the price of a couple of drinks, dear reader…

Well, don’t. But if you absolutely, positively must stop the wanton devouring of the munchies you’ve been using for years to bring in business…

Make sure your servers are allowed the discretion to criminalize only the new customers, who’ll go tell all their friends what cheapskates you are, not the lifetime-loyal customers, who’ll work hard to break their own habit of visiting you, tell all their friends what cheapskates you’ve become…

and write about it on their blog.

Note, dear reader, that nobody stole anything from me, or harmed me, or was even rude to me in any of these stories. These folks were kind, pleasant, and seemed a bit embarrassed by how they were treating me. I came away thoughtful… maybe baffled… but not upset. These were not out-and-out bad customer experiences.

Customer Experience is a slippery thing, though. Diminishing it significantly is all too easy to do without much thought.

But if you’re doing it without much thought, then I reckon you weren’t trying to provide Maximum Customer Experience after all.

Something to think about.

Grow and be well,

Kelly Erickson

*Munchies not named to protect the not-so-innocent.

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Dear Reader,

Bonjour! from marvellous, chilly Canada. The Kid and I are here for the Carnaval de Québec, or Québec Winter Carnival, which we’ve been meaning to get to for years now. Let me tell you we are both pleased as punch to be here, among friends and snow and just in time for this super-cool event.

As is usual, there are a few things one must take care of before going on a long trip… for this one, we had to gear up with new long johns (this is a winter carnival, after all), pack the car with all manner of food, drink, and goodies for the drive, and oh, yeah, buy a cheap, “throwaway” phone for the week, because my cellphone carrier doesn’t allow calls to be made from Canada. We won’t use it for much, but I’ve got to be able to call back a few times during the week for some very necessary appointments, and even more critically, if (heaven forbid) anything should happen to the car, I want to have a cell for calling for aid on the road.

No problem. Verizon (oops, did I just name them?) offers just such a phone. Right in their literature for pre-paid, outrageously expensive but very short-term phones, it outlines how much it will cost to make calls from Canada. Perfect, but last year I made this trip and my phone company assured me No Problem, only to find out too late, when I got here, that the phone did not, in fact, work from Canada, only to. So I’m still officially skeptical and before committing to the phone I call Verizon to be certain.

I got a delightful woman on the phone. I explained, when asking for third time to be sure I understood the phone, the plan, and their capabilities, that it was because I’d been hung out to dry by my cell phone company (I’m normally very happy with them but they blew it on that). I just want to be sure that we’ll be safe and covered, even though it will be costly in the short term.

Yes, she assured me repeatedly. Told me to remember to call *XYZ for customer service if anything went wrong; told me to be sure to sync the phone to the local Québécois phone towers by dialing *ABC when I got over the border.

Great. I purchased the phone, called customer service again to activate it, and made sure with another delightful person that it had been explained to me properly and there was nothing further I needed to do to be able to make calls from Canada once we got there. I got the very same helpful reassurances. You’re all set, Ms. Erickson. Anything else I can do? You have a nice day now.

Can you sense a plot twist coming?

Over the border, The Kid copiloting from the back seat. Somewhere past Montréal, I tell her it’s okay to turn the phone on and see how many “bars” we have. Full power, says the copilot, and I tell her she can make a call to let the friend we’re meeting know that we’re an hour away. She makes the call and my last worries are gone.

When we arrive at our destination I must call one of those necessary appointments. Ring ring, much French, going too fast for my limited understanding, and then in English, “if you’re trying to make a long-distance call, dial the area code first, then the number.”

I’ve just done that, but maybe I went too fast and missed a number. I dial again, more carefully.

Same message.

One more time, same message, then I remember—oh, yes, sync to the local cell phone towers. So I dial *ABC.

“The number you have dialed is not a valid number. Please check the number and dial again.”

I’m getting a bad feeling. I dial it again, and get the same message. I can’t sync to the towers! So I dial customer service at *XYZ to find out why.

“The number you have dialed is not a valid number. Please check the number and dial again.”

What?

Now I have no choice but to locate a landline for the call I need to make, then get on the web to find a regular telephone number for Verizon customer service so I can get help getting this phone to work. (Finding that phone number wasn’t too easy, either.)

The telephone tree is the most inhumane torture I have ever been put through on a phone. Why when I wanted sales and setup was it so much easier than when I want support? It took me almost ten minutes of jumping through hoops, listening to choices that weren’t even vaguely my rather specialized problem, trying “0” to no avail, to get through it. Finally I’m put through to a very nice gentleman in Tuscon, Arizona. I guess they tell you that so you’ll feel assured that an Arizonan can fix your problem. I don’t care if he’s in Tuscon or Timbuktu if he can get me what I paid for, but maybe some folks do. It bugged me, vaguely, to think that’s why they were telling me… but that was not my focus.

The gentleman in Tuscon did a lot of “huh” and “mmm” as I described exactly what had occurred, from being assured pre-sale and during setup, to the fact that it worked to a Québec number, right down to the exact fail messages I heard on the recodings when trying to call the States. “Well I guess those star-whatever numbers won’t work in Canada,” he came up with.

You guess? Yah. Me too. Let’s fix the main thing, okay?

Puts me on hold for a while. Comes back. “Can you put the phone on speakerphone and dial that number you were trying again?”

“Well, I did tell you everything the message said…”

“Yes, would it be all right to put it on speakerphone and dial it?”

“Well, it would be embarrassing if it went through, since I already spoke to him, but I can’t imagine what would have changed, so all right.”

I put it on speakerphone and dial. The same thing happens. Ring ring, much French, and then in English, “if you’re trying to make a long-distance call, dial the area code first, then the number.”

The nice gentleman in Tuscon sneers, “Is that in French?” before listening to the full message. Maybe he’s one of the people who cares whether somebody’s in Tuscon or Timbuktu. I ignore him while the message goes through to the English portion.

“I’m going to put you on hold for just a minute more,” he says. So far it’s twenty minutes of my vacation; what else have I got to do? Sure, go ahead. He comes back. “Let me make sure I understand, before I send this up to tech help, you’re in Québec?”

Yes. Still. And not holding my temper as well as I was twenty minutes ago, but I don’t mention that.

Well, at least I’m going “up to tech help.” That’s got to be good.

But the same gentleman comes back on the line a few minutes later.

“Well, that phone can’t call to the U.S. from Canada on a prepaid plan.”

“What? Can you wait just a second, since I’ve waited so long?” Sure he will. I get the book, which I brought with me in case I didn’t understand something about the phone, and I read to him the section where it explains that I can call, and exactly what my phone calls will cost from Canada.

“Oh, yeah, the phone can, but not on a prepaid plan.”

But this phone was only sold with prepaid plans. It doesn’t come any other way. And the brochure where I first made certain this would work wasn’t for the phone, it was for the prepaid plans. And the book I’m reading to you from is for the phone, describing the various levels of prepaid plans it can be used with.

“Well, yes, the phone can, but not on a prepaid plan.”

And that’s it, folks, into broken-record-mode he went. My mentioning that I had been assured by others that it would work, detailing their instructions to me, reading from their own printed materials, and explaining that this is unacceptable and unless I now go and spend vacation time and money to buy a second phone here in Canada, even leaves me feeling unsafe (since safety was a big part of why I wanted it), all fell on deaf ears. I suppose I should be grateful for the warm and fuzzy 25 minute call, mostly spent running through the telephone tree and on hold, and shut up about it.

“I’m sorry about that, Kelly, the phone won’t do what you’d like it to. Have a good night.”

He hung up on me.

So for a while, I had to shut up about it.

And then… I had to write this post.

The moral of the story:

I hope there is no Vacation Rant #2.

And I hope Rogers makes a nice, throwaway phone that can get me through the rest of my trip without any hassles. Speak French slowly and be patient with me, mes amis, I’ll be in the store first thing in the morning.

(You got the morals, right? Make sure your printed materials are correct. Make sure your customer service is competent, because if the guy tonight is right, then two previous people very nicely screwed me into a useless purchase. Your telephone tree… aaargh, your telephone tree. Please make it just as wonderful to use post-sale as it is when you still want my money. Don’t *ever* let customer service hang up on people, particularly folks who are just discovering that your company has taken money for nothing and made them feel less safe in a new environment with The Kid. A little empathy goes a long way if it’s all you’ve got left to salvage the company’s long-term image, even in a short-term customer’s mind.)

Grow and be well,

Kelly Erickson

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Unhappy Shoppers Are Unexpectedly Useful Unless… Ignored*

I need red pens.

(I may have escaped being an English teacher as originally planned, but your intrepid Experience Designer still uses a lot of red ink to mark up the main issues I want to focus on in new projects.)

Living in The Land of Tax-Free Shopping, otherwise known as Mall-opolis, I have two office superstores to choose from to get my beloved Uniball Micros, only a mile and a half from me, and across the street from each other.

I “like” one of them more, but knowing that they’re really six-of-one-half-a-dozen-of-the-other, I go to the one that’s on the same side of the street as I am. Turnaround traffic can be a pain here.

After some searching, I’m a bit confused. I’m used to buying the pens that leave new projects looking like neat bloodbaths in bulk, but they aren’t here.

“Uniball Micros in color come only in multicolor packs now,” says the employee who stares at the shelves with me when I inquire.

“Oh. Okay, I guess.” I fork over $10.99.

I open the box when I get out to the car. Three red pens and a bunch of colors I won’t use. Suddenly these pens don’t look so beloved.

The traffic to turn around doesn’t look so daunting, either—not when three-dollar red pens are sitting on the seat next to me. I brave the crush of humanity and head for the other store.

Where I find that each color pen can, of course, still be bought in its own 12-pack.

For a buck less, too.

It doesn’t bother me (much) that the employee who was so persuasive at Store #1 was only full of hot air and an authoritative manner. The authoritative part, at least, is probably a good quality in a retail situation, and I’m sure I’d hire for that quality, too. I’ll go back, less than ten minutes later, make the return, and the customer service people will hear that the place across the street carries better variety for less. They can decide what to do about that—or at least, they’ll be made aware. I have no need to mention Mr. Misleading to them.

I enter with the box I’d just exited with so recently and I get the expected funny look from my cashier—who is now at the customer service desk. Great! She’ll be even more curious.

When it’s my turn I hand her the box and the receipt. It’s time-stamped, in case she’s having a hard time remembering why I look so familiar.

“I need to return these,” I say.

She looks at the receipt for a moment. She doesn’t even glance at the slightly mauled box (it’s re-closeable, but it does get dogeared when it’s opened the first time). She processes the return, hands me my cash, and I leave without another word.

1. I could have replaced those pens with Pixie Stix and walked back in for my money and she wouldn’t know.

2. She couldn’t care less why my purchase was useless to me, eight and a half minutes after I just *had* to have them. Even simple curiosity, if not interest in serving the customer (at the customer service desk), should have gotten me a ??? from her.

Number one is troubling, but you’re not doing that at your place of business, right? Of course you’re not.

Watch out for the second one.

How many times does a sale go sour and you don’t ask why?

There’s a lot of data you’re not collecting there. What a waste! You’d be surprised how many dissatisfied customers are eager to help you improve.

Treat fractured sales as seriously as you treat sales that go well. This was a minor issue, but frequently you can uncover invaluable insights that you’ll find out in no other way. As often ask you ask, How did you enjoy us, remember to ask in sales that go sour, Where did we go wrong?

With the information you gather you’ll be able to start cutting those lost sales immediately.

Grow and be well,

Kelly Erickson

*Sorry, alliteration fans. I couldn’t think of a word for “ignored” that begins with a U.

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It’s certainly not all a numbers game

It’s coming up in conversations with clients over and over again these days.

“What will your customers gladly pay for?” I ask of almost everyone as we start our discussions to fine-tune their business direction.

Guaranteed results, they say.

The talk goes straight to those results. Folks will pay you money if they’ll make money from working with you, so goes the theory.

Well, many of my clients do make money as a result of working with me. And I agree, money talks pretty loudly. I’m the first to recommend laying out results in terms of dollars and cents if you can, though other numbers are great, too:

• Money made
• Money saved
• Time saved
• Productivity gained
• Extra widgets produced
• Fewer widgets buggered
• More eyeballs on site or visitors to shop
• More clickthroughs
• Fewer abandoned carts (real-life or online…)

All fine numbers. All ways of looking at cash, really. And those numbers do help ring the cash register—yours, and mine too. By all means, track any numbers you can to demonstrate your value. (If you can, get satisfied clients to talk about your numbers. Even better.)

But what if it’s not really the numbers?

Guaranteed results, they say.

There’s something else we want. More than we want the results, I believe. We want the guarantee.

Perhaps your business doesn’t lend itself to a literal, money-back, iron-clad guarantee. That’s all right. I don’t think, generally speaking, we want our money back. Getting our money back is a mighty large hassle. It’s a nice safety net if you can offer it but it’s not where I’d put the focus.

What will we gladly give up our dollars for?

Certainty.

So you don’t have to be a shop with a money-back guarantee, and you don’t have to provide a product or a service that makes your customers money, to give them what they really want.

It’ll take some deep thought and some fine wording, but whether your business puts cash back in customers’ pockets or not you have the ability to provide the guarantee we need.

How do you provide certainty?

Find that, and you’ll have a brand-new way to connect with your customer. Guaranteed.

Grow and be well,

Kelly Erickson

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Are You Terrible at Keeping a Secret?

Yes, that was The Kid back on her 2nd birthday. She chose these photos, to help out with today’s post—and of course even she can’t believe that’s her. Wow, time flies.

It’s MCE’s 2nd birthday today, and I admit it, I’m hoping you’re terrible at keeping a secret, because this is NOT going to be your typical blog-birthday roundup post.

First and foremost, I’d like to stop for a minute and thank you for being a part of the last two years.

It’s no secret that I love talking about ways we can all improve our revenues by delivering Maximum Customer Experience to the Ideal Customer.

When I’m writing here, I’ve got an Ideal Reader. I don’t write for the Big Boys, the CEOs of huge corporations. I write for and about the small business owner, the entrepreneur, and the employee hoping to help your company get an edge; for the dreamer, the do-er, and for the insightful observer of what can go right and wrong in customer experience all around us.

To all you dreamers, do-ers, and observers, a huge thanks. Writing for you over the past 400-plus posts, hearing from you in comments and in emails, getting to know more of you as time passes, makes this gig rock.

I just had to think of a way to thank you that’s as big as my appreciation. So after checking with several folks who are sure I’ve gone crazy…

I’m going to try very hard to give what I do away to you.

You’re giving it away?

That’s right, I’m hoping to. You probably know that here at MCE I offer a Web Audit package, an in-depth assessment of your website from both the eyes of an expert and the eyes of user testers, and a complete Web Experience Solution, combining that incredibly detailed assessment with the focus and retooling that’s a cornerstone of Maximum Customer Experience. It’s different from work I do with (forgive the tired term) traditional bricks-and-mortar businesses, where we may get into working on their physical space and their customer service as well. Here I can offer web-only Experience Design, exclusively for my loyal MCE readers.

I’ve been told I don’t charge enough. Maybe that’s true for working with the Big Boys, but for the small business owner whom I love to help, I’m glad to provide a great value that can help move your business forward quickly.

Pass it on!

For the next two months, I’m going to try something wild for our great community of readers.

First, are you subscribed to the blog? Go on, get free updates by email or RSS over in the top left of the sidebar. That’s important. If we’re going to get wild, I want to know you’re with me.

1. Send me a screen shot of your subscription confirmation, or forward the email confirm to me, or if you’re already subscribed and you want to be part of this wildness, send a screen shot of MCE in your RSS or your email. My email: kellye (at) visionpoints (dot) net

2. Head on over to the MCE Web Audit/ Web Experience Solution page. Read all about it, decide how you want to work with us, click one of those charming “email me” links, and let me know you’re ready to go. I’ll invoice you and we’ll get to work on the Audit or full Solution for your website or blog. You get an awesome audit and you’re ready to d-i-y or plug in and go.

So far, cool! but business as usual, you say.

Ah, yes. The title is, Why *you* should work for free…

While we’re doing our work, *you* get as busy as you like.

Talk to your friends, your blog-buddies and Twitter pals, the folks you know at the chamber of commerce and your networking groups; email the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker. Easiest work you ever did. Tell them working with VisionPoints will breathe new life into their website and help them connect with customers better than ever before. Send them a link to the Web Audit/ Web Experience Solution, and tell them about this wild deal.

3. For every new client who signs on for an Audit or a full Solution, using your name as a reference, from now through 16 January 2010 (two months from today), and becomes a paid client, you get $100 of your paid price back.

Up to FREE.

Yep. If you sign on for the Audit at $449, and five friends at the skating rink need their websites assessed and overhauled, tell them to mention you when they sign up and pay in full by 16 January 2010, and you’ll find your $449 back in your pocket.

If you need the full Web Experience Solution for your site, starting at $1149 (size of site, complexity of Solution can vary the price), and you know twelve folks who were downsized from the Quik-E-Chem and started their own businesses last year, who want their sites to convert more visitors into loyal customers, dial them up. Your $1149 will come back to you in $100 chunks, every time another buddy pays in full.

Isn’t that crazy enough?

Maybe not quite.

So tell your buddies to come on over to MCE and subscribe to the blog.

Then back to #1 up above, buddies—send me a screen shot….

That’s right. If your friends and fellow business owners want to work toward getting their work for free too, tell them to refer their friends to our Web Audit and Web Experience Solution. They’ll get the same $100 of their paid price back for every new, paid-up client who uses their name as a reference from now to 16 January 2010. Up to free.

The small print:

I’m crazy enough to try this enormous thank-you to my dear readers, but not nuts. I have no idea how this will go! Our small team has loads of energy, but there’s only 24 hours in the day. While I will honor all who take me up on it, getting your project scheduled works the same as it did yesterday: first come first served. So if you want your project done *soon,* you know what they say—don’t delay.

So we’re clear:

You must be subscribed to the MCE Blog, via RSS or email, to take advantage of this refund offer, and you must send proof of that via email when you are ready to hire us for your Audit or Solution.

You must be a client of VisionPoints—Website Audit or Web Experience Solution ONLY. Sorry, no refunds to folks who haven’t done work with us—there’s nothing to refund! and sorry, I can’t do the interiors of your corporate headquarters for free, even with loads of referrals.     You must be paid in full in order to receive a refund of your purchase price. You do not have to wait until you’ve paid in full to refer new clients.

New client referrals must mention your name when they email about having their own Audit or Solution done. That’s how I know who to thank with a refund. For every client you refer who has paid in full before 16 January 2010, you will receive a $100 refund of your purchase price, up to free. If you refer all 2,000 of your Twitter followers, you have my undying gratitude. You have my Kid’s undying gratitude. (You have 1,895 Twitter followers who may wait a little while to get their finished Solution.) But I can not make any refund beyond your purchase price. No exceptions.

PAST CLIENTS: Yes, I would love to give you your money back! Please do accept my thanks and have fun with this offer.

If your work is not a good fit for VisionPoints, we do reserve the right to turn down a project. All other terms of working with VisionPoints apply, as always. And folks, if there’s a way to game this that I haven’t thought of—don’t. Be nice for everybody’s sake.

Last, while I hope you will love the work we do for you so much that referring folks to become new readers of MCE and happy clients of VisionPoints will become a lifelong habit, this offer will end two months from now, on 16 January 2010. No exceptions.

Even back then, The Kid suspected I was overly generous with the cupcakes…

Thanks again, dear reader. You’ve made the last two years a wild ride. I’m just returning the favor.

Grow and be well,

Kelly Erickson

P.S. In case you missed the link, just click on over to the MCE Website Audit/ Web Experience Solution page right now to hire us for your Audit or full Solution. We’ll start working for you. You start working toward free!

P.P.S. As you might guess, if you’ve enjoyed today’s post and many more here at MCE, today I’d be extra-grateful if you’d consider Tweeting, Stumbling, or otherwise spreading the word about this wild blog-birthday offer using the Tweet This and the Share links. Our community always has room for more fans of Maximum Customer Experience!

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Did you notice?

Imagine’s a mighty powerful word.*

In copywriting class, the professor reminds you to get your reader to imagine the successful outcome of purchasing from you. Funny thing is, first you have to do the imagining, in order to write the copy that helps that reader’s imagination.

In every self-help book you can pick up, you’ll be advised to imagine you already have (the lady, or the career, or the healthy lifestyle, or the cottage in the mountains, or the productivity, or the empty laundry basket, or the Rolex and the chauffeur and the private jumbo jet with male models serving your rum and cokes… *ahem*) that you desire. It’s the first step in getting what you want.

Where would poetry, plays, art, film, and music be, if we didn’t imagine ourselves in the shoes of the narrator, the hero, or at least the fly on the wall?

For your business: Put on your imagining-cap today, dear reader. Imagine you had hundreds of articles at your fingertips, all ready to help your grow your business, and you wanted to read just a few… ones that can kick you into action or spin you into fresh thinking about what you do and why.

I hope this little round-up of goodies from the MCE vaults will help you imagine your business, thriving. Click around, catch up, leave comments, and come on back to discuss.

Imagine you need more sales right now. Would it be worth 30 minutes of your time? If you missed it (just this past Wednesday), DO make this quick post the start of your imaginings. Guaranteed to help you out.

Imagine you’ve got an idea that nobody’s ever tried for your business. You’re halfway to real innovation. Time to decide whether you should go your own way, or go the customer’s way.

Imagine your idea’s in place and you’re wondering—what’s the very the most important ad I’ll ever write, the one that will make everything else an easier coast or an uphill climb? Find out what it is and get tips on outdoing the Big Boys with yours.

Imagine your business growing without ever having to feel slimy about “being in business.” Can it be done? It can if you know a little something about the tides.

Imagine there are simple ways to extend your reach into your community without spending vast sums of money. Let Charlie show you how to get personal and have fun with it.

Imagine you’re scared. We all are at times. Believe it or not, that fear can power you forward. Embrace it!

Imagine your Ideal Customer. Oh, sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Need help imagining him or her? Read the three-part series that starts here.

Imagine you’d like to know where I go when I need snappy perspective as fresh as the waters of Nova Scotia. The whole Round Table series is filled with great inspirations, but I’d be pleased if you’d imagine a place in your email or RSS feed for these excellent writers. (Bonus: Imagine you were in on a bit of my summer fun when you click through.)

Imagine you—with fewer limits. Maybe all you need is a little help from Curtis Armstrong. He still helps me out several times a week.

Imagine you write a blog. Or you read blogs, and you want to know whether they’re any good for business. Or, heck—just imagine you want to know what it will take to get me to shave my head. If your imagination is running wild now, then this post’s for you.

If all that imagining got you wondering how I can help your blog or website, just click this link, where you can imagine what it would be like if your website actually did what you thought it would when you sprayed it out of the can of Blog-Wiz.

(No, I don’t know why that funky image came to my head at this moment. Maybe I’m working too hard…)

Imagine you work hard. REALLY HARD. Every. Doggone. Day. And right now, you need to see why someone else does it, because it just might remind you of why you do it. This post is my virtual hug to you, because we can’t be all go-go-go all the time, even when we’re after Maximum Customer Experience.

And if you’ll indulge me, while I imagine that may not have been enough to set your imagination on fire: here’s just a little bit more to help you kick ass.

Wow. You’ve got a heck of an imagination. No wonder you’re so good at what you do.

To keep this topic going a bit longer—I’d love to hear your tips or stories of business breakthroughs you’ve had when you let your imagination run free!

Grow and be well,

Kelly Erickson

*It’s amazing how that word “imagine” got you to click through! I promise not to make a habit of drawing you in with such strong language too frequently. The Kid is going to give me such a hard time if she spots this one!  

I couldn’t possibly let this go without a special musical guest: One who at times in his career would have hated being a part of this, and at times, might have gotten a big kick out of it. (Plus it’s one of The Kid’s favorite songs and it might help me get out of trouble when she reads the aforementioned title of this post.)

Imagine, 1971. The inimitable John Lennon.

P.S. If you enjoyed this post, I hope you’ll subscribe by email or by RSS (it’s free), and please tell a friend! Give it a Tweet, a link, a Stumble, or otherwise bookmark using the “Share” button below.

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… Are they hoping that I’m not typical?

If you’re working in a “typical” business, you think the rules that govern your firm are special. I’m guilty of it myself. (Whoo-ee.) You think your mileage may vary from the way other businesses have to pay attention to the entire Customer Experience. Because of all that specialness, of course.

Sorry. The rules that govern your business’ growth are the same as the rules for the businesses you do—and don’t—buy from when you’re the customer. Which means this Customer Experience stuff should be easy! Just turn this thinking around so you’re on the other side of the sale…

If you’re a “typical” customer, wouldn’t you like to tell a few businesses about some of the dumb things they do? Try out a few of these:

I don’t see your website’s banner. Neither do user testers, time after time. Don’t even remember the name of your site unless you repeat it in your body copy a couple of times. So if you put critical info up there, just know that I’ll never see it.

Your mileage may vary.

I don’t notice your customer service until the day you screw up. You know how you brag about having friendly people who make my day so sweet? Don’t remember any of them. I’ve got things to do when I’m at your store. Your staff are there to make things pleasant. If they can’t manage that, then at least make sure they don’t make it unpleasant. I’ll forgive or forget the rest.

Your mileage may vary.

I still read my mail. The snail variety.

Except the big envelope full of offers from 63 companies. “VALUE-MAIL!” you scream, but I can’t hear you.

Unless I’m in the mood to get something for nothing.

Because I think the desperate people stick their leaflets in those envelopes.

Your mileage may vary.

I’m judgmental, superficial, and lookist, and I don’t even know it. Don’t hold it against me; I’m here to pay your bills. I decide in less than 30 seconds whether I’ll stay on your website, whether I’ll buy from your ill-dressed salesperson, whether I’ll purchase what’s in your fancy packaging. I think I’m rational, logical, and well-educated. I think I’m reading, listening, thinking it out. But I’m really a mass of consumerist prejudices, and I’ve already made my decision.

Your mileage may vary.

I’m all about me. You’re talking about you! You have experience, capabilities, power-performance-and-whoop-de-doodads. All I want to know is how my day will go better once I say yes to you. In detail. Me-me-me. With a smile (that I’m sorry, I won’t remember later).

Your mileage may vary.

If you call me on the phone and I didn’t ASK you to, GAME OVER.

Ditto email.

Your mileage may vary.

I didn’t hear you. Mostly because I’m not listening. There’s stuff going on around me and inside me that is just… more interesting than you. So repeat yourself. Sorry you’re sick of it. Rephrase it now and again. Then… repeat yourself. Seems that you think I am paying attention. Dude, I’m way, way busier than that. And I think I’m becoming just a little bit bored—NOT because you’re repeating yourself—because I forgot why I’m waiting around to GET THE POINT.

Your mileage….

What would you add? What other dumb things do you see companies doing, figuring the rules of great Customer Experience don’t apply to them?

Grow and be well,

Kelly Erickson

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It’s time to put the bread on your table

Profiling for Maximum sales

Three customers step into your store. All of them seem ideal. RH was so interested you thought he was a sure thing. After wasting a lot of time and energy serving him, you realized you are never going to get his business, but you sure have made it easier for him to shop at amazon. Oh, well. Now the Red Herring is a lot easier to spot.

One guy’s already become your favorite face at the shop. He loves to look around. He says Hi but doesn’t demand a lot of time. Once in a while he makes a small purchase. He seems to have friends everywhere, and they never fail to mention his referral with a smile. They come in pre-sold on the word of BFF, your biggest Propheteer.

The last customer walks in, head down. He looks around quickly, sees the sign for the department he’s interested in, and beelines over there with seemingly no interest in the store at all. If the staff tries to help, they get a gruff “no thanks.”

Meet your Ideal Customer.

This week, Experience Design 201: a special series on profiling your customers to increase your sales.

Part Three: Mr. E, the Ideal Customer

What’s eating Mr. E? He walks into your store as if he owns the place. Strides to the aisle he wants without a word or a smile. Not that he doesn’t have a smile, just that he doesn’t have time for that right now.

He’s easy to recognize. You’ll even hear other customers mumble, “looks like he’s on a mission.”

Leading characteristics:

Laser focus

Has no time

May have a written list; definitely has a mental agenda

Little interest in price

Ready to buy but impatient

Seen more often in business-to-business transactions (B2B)

Unlike everyone else in the store or on your website today, Mr. E is shopping for a current need.

What brought him here today?

Simple. (You sped right past it a second ago.) He’s here because he’s ready to buy. Mr. E is your Easy sale.

What can we do for this Ideal Customer?

Catching his eye:

Your business’ name is the most important ad you’ll ever write. If you’re at the beginning of your plans as you read this, make your name rock. It’s an unbelievable leg-up on your competition, especially for Mr. E(asy sale).

Ultra clarity. Mr. E is impatient. It’s an easy sale, but not a sure sale. Mr. E wants to make his purchase, not guess whether soap is in “body” or “cleansing.” No jargon, no overlapping or confusing navigation (in store or online!), and no cutesies. Cutsey is for wanderers, and wanderers are someday-purchasers at best.

Task-oriented efficiency. This applies to everything from getting around your place to how your staff is trained. Like BFF, functional groupings can work wonders. What do people come to your store to solve? Get the nails with the hammers, get the soap with the scrubby-thingies (??), sell the business cards when they’re ordering stationery. And your staff—make sure they are looking at the business from that customer’s task-oriented point of view. Answers. To problems. That your products solve. Which they can explain quickly to the prospect.

Great search on-site. This customer will not see your navigation. That’s right, he won’t even see it. Time and again, I see Mr. E go straight to the search box and type in what he needs. If the term doesn’t come up with any results, he may rephrase. Once. Then he’s gone—impatient, remember? So make sure you are thinking like the Ideal Customer, writing from his point of view, and packing your site with words that speak to his needs.

Home page is critical. He has to be sure you have what he needs right away. If you do not explain what you sell or at least describe your Ideal Customer perfectly on your home page, go right now and fix that. Even one click is too many for your Ideal Customer. (“But c’mon… if he clicks, where will the one click be?” you ask. To the page that appears to be the next in the sales process. MAKE IT CLEAR. If he gets it wrong, you lose.)

Loyal?

Yes, loyal. With a twist. Mr. E is rarely the guy who will spread word-of-mouth for you. You’re this guy’s “secret source” and he’s happy to keep it that way, thanks.

Designing Maximum Customer Experience for Mr. E involves:

Pinpointing his needs and speaking to them

and

Valuing his time above everything else

Think like a fast-food worker. How fast can you serve Mr. E the certain knowledge that he should buy from you?

Now do what they do. Aim to cut that time in half.

Pros:

He wants to give you his money. ‘Nuff said.

Cons:

1. Because he’s usually not a chatter, he can be misunderstood. You’ll have no trouble spotting him, but you may not believe he’s the Ideal Customer at first. You’ve been letting him get away every single day since you opened your doors.

2. Being crystal clear from the customer’s point of view is A LOT harder than it looks.

Best bet:

This guy is one you may not enjoy, but the one you need most. Mr. E will buy, from you, or he will turn on his heels. It’s what he’s here for. Go overboard in your efforts to make the transaction easy for Mr. E.

Make his goals yours and you have a customer for life.

Great! Now I want to make more sales, Kelly!

This part knocks us all for a loop now and then: We want to induce sales; we want to “sell” customers; we want to get our prospects to buy.

It can’t be done.

You can encourage.

You can entice.

You can remind, rephrase, maybe even repackage.

You can prod at a need or a pain that is there, but doesn’t seem urgent enough.

You can’t “make” a sale.

When the customer has a need— when the customer knows that you have the Ideal Solution to that need— not only can’t you “sell” him or her, you won’t need to. Like Mr. E, the customer who has a need that he knows only you have the Ideal Solution to, has already sold himself.

So you can’t make more sales, but you can help more buyers feel like Mr. E. I promised you that Experience Design 201 would teach you to turbo-charge your sales. Let’s do it!

How to turbo-charge your sales with buyer profiles

Drop the Red Herrings. Unless you want practice, or enjoy giant time-sucks.

Enjoy and nurture your relationships with Propheteers, even though their own purchases may be small.

Be bold, be direct, and focus the entire Customer Experience on Mr. E’s needs. Demonstrate the you are the Ideal Solution from every possible angle. Make it impossible to make a wrong turn, from your front door (or homepage), to the sales counter. Other buyers, with other profiles, will be just as pleased with this Pinpoint precision, even though they’ll use your store or your site in different ways.

In ads and other marketing materials: Forget “branding.” Never, ever, write an ad of any kind where you don’t ask the prospect to say Yes to something. Buy this item. Sign up for email. Call today. You aren’t doing this to make people warm and fuzzy, you’re doing this to grow your business. Insist that every dollar you spend does just that.

In store: Signage. More than you want is less than they need. Color to orient the customer, if the store’s large. Lighting, especially lighting focused right on your key products. You do NOT have to light your store like a hospital to make sales.

On the web: Bigger (type), bolder (navigation to key sales pages—let other nav take a quiet back seat), clearer (clever, jargony language is instant sales death), less (fewer choices = more yesses), more (links within text to guide the sales process), none (ads to other sites—when your customer is gone he is GONE).

At every decision-point, shout clearly: “This is the next step!”

Never be afraid that you’re overdoing it. I guarantee you’re not.

Congratulations, dear reader. We’ve gone through some very advanced lessons this week, and you’ve made it to the finals of Experience Design 201.

I bet you know how we check your exam around here—in dollars!

Go forth. Maximize your sales.

Graduate and be well,

Kelly Erickson

P.S. If you missed the links above: please click to read Part 1 and Part 2 in this series.

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