Now That’s Service!
The other night, I gathered with a group of colleagues at Land Thai restaurant on 2nd Ave and 81 St in Manhattan. It was the
first time any of us had been there. As it turns out, it’s really my kind of place. Now, I love Thai food, but beyond that, everything about the place spoke to intentionality: the calming environment/décor, the unobtrusive yet deliberate service, and the food (I’m told it was exceptional; I didn’t eat – long story). Yet, the thing that caught my attention more than anything else didn’t happen until I was walking out the door. It was then that I was politely interrupted and told that I overpaid the bill. See, when the bill came, I was in conversation and, without looking, merely added 20% as a tip. Little did I realize that – as is standard among many restaurants – because of the size of our party, they had already included the tip in the bill. They could have kept the extra money and I wouldn’t have figured it out until it was far too late. And, truthfully, I would have counted it as my mistake, not theirs. But they didn’t keep the money.
By the end of the meal, having enjoyed the purposely-planned experience that the founders orchestrated and the staff delivered, I had reached the level of Affinity (on my ATRALA marketing framework). The integrity shown, however, sky-rocketed me to Advocacy. What became clear to me is that there is a story behind Land Thai. It’s one I want to know more about. It’s one I want to tell. And it’s one that, after a single Trial experience, I have become a part. Great job Land Thai! I think you’ll be around for a long time to come.
Feed Me, I’m Starving
Standing in the kitchen, getting ready for a rare outing of just the three of us (his younger sisters were with their grandparents),
the request seemed innocuous enough…”Would you read mommy the story you wrote?” Surprisingly, he stated that he preferred she read it herself. And so she did. A few moments into reading it, she pointed out a spelling mistake, and that’s when everything came out. At first, he tried to hold it back, but the force of the tears was too strong. Soon, he was crying uncontrollably. Our repeated inquiries into the problem were met with, “I don’t know.” After several minutes of getting nowhere, we sent him to his room – a different environment – to calm down.
As he settled a little bit, I went up to his room, sat next to him on the bed, and began calmly asking questions. I sought to isolate the moment he began to feel sad. “Have you felt sad all morning? Read More
Mission or Ambition?
Does your organization’s purpose light people up?
In the course of a presentation recently, I examined the mission statements of several companies. The presentation itself was, generally, about doing business from a relational standpoint instead of from a transactional standpoint. More specifically, it was about “missionalizing” one’s business/organization. The idea is this: organizations that establish a high-level purpose and integrate that purpose into every aspect of operations have the opportunity to connect with people – inside and outside – in such a way that brings out their best. When this happens, everybody benefits.
So, I did a fun exercise with the group. I put on the screen, one at a time, about 10 mission statements of well- Read More
I’m In
The fast lane to starting something new often feels much more like the slow lane.
What would you do if you recently moved into a new area only to find, to your surprise and disappointment, no youth hockey league for your children? Here’s what you probably wouldn’t do: start a youth 
hockey league. Not yet anyway…doing so would be exhausting, frustrating, and expensive.
Hockey – particularly ice hockey – is a sport that requires a lot of commitment, both in terms of money and time. The equipment can be expensive, and so is the ice time. Rinks generally aren’t around the corner like most baseball fields, and games and practices are often held at very odd hours. Even just getting suited up takes a bit of time…certainly not as simple as putting on a pair of cleats and a glove. Oh, and of course, you’ve got that whole learning to skate thing. Suffice it to say, the hurdles for kids to really pursue the game – and experience the sensation of sharp blades cutting through the ice, the satisfaction of a well executed passing sequence, and the thrill of watching the back of the net flex in submission to the puck – are high.
So, instead of starting a league straight away, you might start simply by playing hockey with your children in the Read More
Lift Off
At a conference recently, my hotel room afforded me a panoramic view of the runways at DFW airport. One evening, in between
functions, I watched the activity on those runways for about ten minutes, marveling at how effortlessly the immense machines appeared to climb through the sky and how gracefully they returned to ground.
What really struck me as I watched plane after plane engage in something akin to a gigantic waltz, is just how routine this dance has become. Everyday, all day, at airports all over the world, it’s played out again and again. A bit more than 100 years ago, what I was witnessing was barely conceivable. Now, it’s totally normal. Standing there, I imagined the glee Orville and Wilbur Wright would feel if they were in my shoes.
How is it that something so incredible can become commonplace? The answer I find is quite simple in theory Read More
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Don’t Try Too Hard
I really hate the hard sell. Maybe that’s why these words have resonated so loudly. I’m part of a generation that wants to be invited toward participation, no coerced. And our coercion radar is strong.
The way I see it, if you have to try hard to convince me, then one of three things is true: whatever you’re selling isn’t really good enough to stand on its own merits, you’re doing a poor job communicating the benefits, or I’m just not ready to buy. If it’s the latter, all of your effort is actually making it less likely that I’ll buy from you when I am ready.
Breakdown
Hugo had no choice but to call the local large-chain auto parts retailer. Enough unsatisfying experiences made them his last resort for anything auto related. This time, though, his clutch cable was broken – near his home, thankfully – and it was too late to travel by bus to another supplier.
So, he called the store, placed the order for a clutch cable…pick up tomorrow at 11am. Great! Easy. The guy on the phone was helpful, efficient, friendly…unlike what he had experienced before. Seeds of changing his mind about the company were planted.
The next day, shortly after 11am, Hugo went in to the store ready to pick up his cable. The guy on the phone call wasn’t working that day. “No, we don’t have a pick up under your name and we haven’t received a delivery today,” another employee told him. “Come back at 2pm. We should be receiving a delivery by then.” Hmm…OK. Inconvenient…frustrating…but OK. Read More
Hit the Books
Paul de Vries was the class “dummy” for most of elementary school – partly, as he describes, because of severe myopia and
dyslexia. By the time he was in 6th grade, he was three years behind in every area of knowledge and skill development. Despite his struggles, he was promoted to the next grade level each year, falling further and further behind.
In 6th grade, something changed. Paul’s teacher, Ms. Ethel Smith, took a very special interest in him. She dramatically helped and encouraged him during the second half of the school year and well into summer vacation. During that summer, she helped Paul overcome many of his difficulties with reading. In looking back with great appreciation and admiration, Paul finds something else she did. He states, “she started majorly messing with my mind to extract the attitude of failure.”
Swinging for the Fences
For most of my youth, I never imagined that I would become anything other than a professional baseball player. I’m told that I was throwing a ball from about 18 months old. The only studio pictures of me as a small child feature a flannel, pinstriped baseball uniform. I developed a strong throwing arm by having catches with my friend Phil before I was allowed to cross the street to his house. When nobody was around, for hours at a time, I’d toss the ball in the air, off walls, off roofs…anything to be playing. And before I was old enough for any organized league, I went to my brothers’ games, eager for the opportunity to run the bases – and slide, of course – when the games ended. As the saying goes, I lived and breathed baseball.
By the time I was 11 years old, I was playing on a team based in Brooklyn, an hour+ from my Long Island home. It was a serious team with many fantastic players. We were dedicated to baseball…dedicated enough to practice in gymnasiums through the winter and travel the country for tournaments during the summer. Ohio, Connecticut, San Francisco, Maryland, Seattle, and Iowa were the places we played by the time I was 15. Read More