Creepy image of “Barista warmly greeting their customer” generated by AI in Adobe Photoshop—although this looks just like me at 19, I can assure you. Minus the cold, dead eyes.
I have a pet peeve. When I walk into a retail store or a cafe, I want you to greet me straight away. I used to train baristas for Starbucks, after having learned by serving hundreds of coffees an hour for about six months. The key thing I trained on was this: When a customer comes into your store, you say “hello.” You might acknowledge a line and say, “I’ll be with you as soon as I can.” But it’s about saying you see them, and you’re committed to doing your best. We used to call it “delivering the Starbucks Experience.”
It doesn’t matter if you own the store or if it’s owned by a multinational corporation. The importance of this is the same the world over. It’s about showing pride in your work and sincerity in your desire to be helpful. These might sound like old-fashioned words to some, but I can assure you: They never go out of style.
You don’t always need to smile, although it helps. You do need to make the effort. When you fail to acknowledge your customer, it says a huge amount. It says their business doesn’t matter to you. In a trade where margins are slim and repeat business matters, goodwill counts. I loved being a barista, and a barista trainer. I realize now that the lessons I learned selling cappuccinos for £1.50 still count for a ton. No matter what the product or the industry. You must show people that you see them and that you’re ready to help.
It’s what builds community. It’s also true as I’ve gone into a strategic communications consulting career. Even if I can’t help a client straight away, I’ll acknowledge them, fast. If there’s going to be a delay, I’ll explain that I’ll be with them as soon as possible. That kind of responsiveness is what my clients pay me for. They want to know that their business matters to me. It matters a huge amount. There’s no higher compliment than somebody being willing to pay me for my advice and services. I mean it.
I’ve also found it coming into my work with clients, too, where I’m coaching them on how to communicate. How you reach out to people matters. You must take ownership of the communication and show that you’re sincere. You must show people that to you, their welfare matters. You want to take care over your words and tone of voice. You want to take care with the timing and what you’re asking for. It all wants to feel considered. It should never feel glib.
Glibness is a disaster for engaging any audience.
A few weeks ago, I was volunteering at a homeless shelter. I found that when customers came in for their meal, it was instinctive to offer them a seat and some water. I’d tell them their meal would be right out and show them where to put their coat. I noticed that some of my compatriots were warier of greeting our customers. I told them it’s more important, in many ways, than delivering the meal. It was nice to see them warm up and overcome their reticence. It was nice to see our customers respond by relaxing and opening a little. The service was at least as important as the food.
The funny thing was our “customers” weren’t paying. We were giving them the meals for free. But that is so far beside the point. That, indeed, is the point. The people you engage as you deliver your services are human beings, not statistics or welfare recipients. Seeing them through a customer service lens helps reframe some of the unhealthier dynamics in cause-driven work and builds power. It’s community organizing. Customer service. Close to the same thing.
If you’re struggling with how to communicate, I can assure you: I’ll be right with you. I’ll show interest in your challenge and bring the wealth of my experience to bear on solving it. You’ll also know that I’ll continue to be around to work with you into the future. I don’t farm my workload out to juniors and so my clients know that they’re contracting with me, and me, only. That’s my name on the door and I take genuine pride in how I serve you. I wish I could say that I trusted everyone in my industry to treat you with the same attitude as their customer but I’m afraid it’s not been the anecdotal experience of many of my clients. I can hardly believe some of the stories I’ve heard, on this score, if I’m honest. So, I realized: I should promote my customer service as an asset that sets me apart. It’s a bit sad, really. But I’m also committed to being a customer service evangelist in our industry. We need a bit of a mindset shift.
What’s the best example you’ve got of this going right, or wrong, in your experience?
