I was at the barber shop yesterday morning getting my hair
done, a place I visit every other month or so. As is the trend nowadays,
besides hair care, every salon/barber shop has on the menu an array of beauty
services on offer including nail care, eye care, massages and the works. As my
hair was getting done, the beautician enquired if I would have my nails done
too. I think she’d looked at the sorry state my hands and feet were in and
proffered a solution. This would ordinarily be a simple question that would
generate a yes or no answer right?
Well, in my case, this was something to think deeply and
reflect about. You see, the lovely lady who does my nails, feet and eyebrows
(what’s the correct name for this profession? Is it beautician?)Valerie is
stationed at a beauty parlour on Argwings Kodhek Road about some 15 odd kilometers
away from the barbershop that is a stone throw away from my house on Mombasa
Road. The facility where she works is also so busy, one must book an
appointment to get service. The offer therefore to have my nails done
concurrently with my hair would provide a time saving solution that would also eliminate
the hassle of booking and travel. I’m sure many ladies (oh and nowadays even
gentlemen) can relate to the convenience of doing all the hair and beauty stuff
in one spot.
So as I considered this offer, and weighed the pros and cons
of where to do my nails, all rational thought pointed at doing my nails at the
barber shop. However, irrational thought, bore down heavily, with thoughts such
as how I would be betraying Val creeping up and whispering furtively in my left
ear. As ridiculous as it sounds, somehow the thought of having someone else do
my nails was producing a strong feeling
tantamount to committing grand larceny by taking what was rightfully hers and
giving it away to another. Too dramatic right? Indeed it is, but that’s exactly
how I felt.
So in the midst of this tempest, I reached for my phone and
called Val, hoping somehow that on the off chance she may have a free slot
sometime soon, so that I could assess how many more days I’d need to walk
around with my ragged look. So Val, who
as usual was delighted to hear from me, let me know that she’d had a
cancellation and could take me in if I could get there within the hour as her
next appointment was in the afternoon. The relief was overwhelming. I very
happily declined the nail care offer and I’m sure the beautician must have
wondered what my delight was about, hurried the barber up to finish his
business, got into my car and drove like a Matatu driver to Val’s place, using
all manner of short cuts and back routes to avoid what has now become a common
place occurrence of Saturday mid morning traffic.
Even Val was pretty surprised at how quickly I’d gotten
there. As she ministered to my hands and feet, and we caught up on what was
going on in each other’s lives and other stories of mutual interest, I felt
right at home. I wondered how I had even considered attempting anything else.
This is the effect of making your customers your friends. They become fiercely
loyal, emotionally attached and are ready to walk your journey with you as a
supplier or service provider through thick and thin. How else can one explain
leaving one facility with the exact same service offering, and making a mad
dash across the city, braving traffic and driving in a manner that puts one at
risk of being highlighted on a popular news segment ‘Road Hog’ that casts a
spotlight on erratic and bad driving behaviour, to receive the same services
elsewhere?
It’s the lesson that we all need to learn and continuously
practise, to have our customers at the centre of our focus , have a genuine
interest in them and make them feel individually special. So go out there and
make your customers your friends, sisters, brothers and family, and like Oleta
Adams so powerfully says - how they get
there, be it railway, trailway, airplane, caravan, sailboat or rope to rope,
they will surely get to you whichever way they can.
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