For many years, two customers frequented the office where I previously worked, a father and son routine that had a Mom and Pop-sized plumbing company. John, the father, and Mike, the son, would walk into the office, pass by the front desk and park themselves in Colonel Roby's office for hours on end talking about such exciting things as refrigerant pipe sizing and air conditioning tonnage. Trust me, I would do all possible to avoid these guys, and the prospect of getting involved in one of their conversations (much like I assume my children feel when I engage my wife Ruth in a conversation about induction or LED lighting). What might be exciting for me is more than likely a sedative for others.
So, as you might have guessed, and following the theme of a previous month's column where I seemed to have gotten the Colonel's accounts following his untimely death (while helping get a cat out of a tree - true story), I now was given the John and Mike account.
Like clockwork, John and Mike began showing up at the door of my office, looking for the same warmth, comfort and conversation that Mr. Roby used to give them. Well, again, these stories are fun to tell, but only if I leave out years of details, like years of them stopping by my office, grabbing nuggets of my intelligence; or years of helping design projects, only to have them purchase from someone else. Or, if they did purchase from me, wishing they hadn't.
One day John came alone to my office, wearing his normal one-piece brown union suit. He sat down in my side chair, moaning about how his knees, which had recently been replaced, still constantly hurt him. Just at that moment, he looked up and saw a picture of my new baby. He asked who that was and I told him that he was my new son. Knowing after further discussion that my wife and I had recently adopted our son, he said "Don't get attached to him, they'll just take him away." I was floored at his insensitive comment. I said, "We didn't get him at the Humane Society. He's not a dog, he's a baby and they won't take him away."
Getting sick and tired of the complaining and the negativity, I responded, "John, I'll make you a deal. My son and I will pray for you every night that your pain goes away, if you will commit to praying that no one ever takes him away from us. Is that a deal?" Flabbergasted, John reluctantly agreed.
Two weeks later, after praying every night that "John's pain would go away," he dropped dead on a barstool in Las Vegas!
Two weeks later, his son Mike showed up at my office, plopped down in the side chair and began to talk. Before he went too far, I expressed my deepest regrets and sorrow over the passing of his father. I also told him that I thought I might also have to apologize for contributing to his father's death. He asked what I meant by that and I said, "I think my son and I killed your dad!" After telling him the story, we both had a great laugh.
I truly believe that John and Mike both respected me for being outspoken, and challenging the grossly insensitive comment that John made to me some 13 years ago. I could have, but I did not take it personally. I turned the moment into an opportunity to show my concern and care for my client as a person, disregarding the hurt and focusing on my concern for his personal well being.
Today's situation was focused on a personal attack, but every day we get plenty of customer attacks on our integrity, timeliness, work and product quality.
- Get past the words that come from your customer's mouth and see if you can hear what he or she is really saying.
- Be bold and honest in your customer relationships.
- Show your customer that you care more about them than their purchase orders.
- Be specific about what you ask for. Had I just asked for the pain in his knees to go away, would John still be alive today?
Jeff Pinyot is the founder and vice president of business development of ECa Parking Lights. He can be reached at jspinyot@ECOParkingLights.com
