Earlier today, I broke down and established a Twitter profile and broadcast my first “tweet” pertaining to a book review on this website and just added another update about some customer service research I was doing on TripAdvisor.com.

For a long time I asked myself, “Why would anyone be interested in communicating in such a cryptic manner?” And, assuming that did appeal to someone, why would anyone else even care? That said, I’ve taken the plunge and plan to add regular updates pertaining to the customer service I’m presently receiving and/or service-related projects I’m working on.

As opposed to submitting tweets about nothing (sort of like an ongoing Seinfeld threaded discussion…), I’m going to try and make the updates a bit more relevant by adding customer service nuggets (in 140 characters or less) like this one: Server just asked, “How was everything?” I said, “Fine.” She said, “Good” and left the check. Did you know that “fine” is an acronym for “Feelings Inside Not Expressed”?

If you’re on Twitter and are interested in following my updates, my user name is: enthused.

Happy tweeting!

Earlier today I stopped by my local Safeway supermarket. I was picking up the necessary ingredients to make a pretty unoriginal meal: spaghetti and meat sauce. Deciding it might be interesting to surprise my family with a unique twist on a common meal—in our household anyway—I looked at the seasoning packets in the baking aisle to see if they had one for Italian meatballs.

I wasn’t finding exactly what I was looking for and must have telegraphed this with my body language because, about the time I was going to give up and settle for boring old meat sauce, an employee named Kristi approached me to see if I needed help. I explained what I was looking for and together we scanned the selection one more time without finding exactly what I needed.

Kristi then said, “I’m sorry we don’t have what you’re looking for. I have my own recipe for Italian meatballs in my head.” I asked, “Can you tell me some of the basic ingredients? Then I’ll try to make it myself at home.”

She then provided me with a list of ingredients and corresponding quantities from her personal recipe! I was delighted and thanked her for taking the extra time to help me.

But it doesn’t end there. About five minutes later, Kristi approached me in another part of the store saying, “I almost forgot…you’ll also need 3 teaspoons of Parmesan cheese.”

I was so impressed with her thoughtfulness and the genuine interest she expressed in my desire to serve Italian meatballs to my family for dinner. Not only did she stop what she was doing in the baking aisle to assist me and—ultimately—share her personal recipe, she also had the thoughtfulness to reflect on the recipe to make sure she hadn’t left anything out. And when she realized she had, took the initiative to find me in the store and share the missing ingredient!

While memorable customer service may not always translate immediately to increased sales, it did in this case. Remember, I was prepared to settle for boring old meat sauce (which I already had at home) after not finding what I was looking for on the shelf. In fact, it turns out that I already had most of the ingredients for Kristi’s recipe at home. But there were two items, saltine crackers and Parmesan cheese, that I didn’t have. Those items totaled $7.

Just imagine the potential of a supermarket staffed by engaged employees like Kristi.  What if every customer who telegraphed a need through his or body language as I did was approached rather than ignored? Maybe a percentage of these customers could be directed to another part of the store where the product they’re hoping to find is stocked? Or perhaps, assuming the store does not carry exactly what they’re looking for, some number of customers could be induced to try an alternative like I was?

Can you begin to see the potential?

This is a true story:  Last Tuesday, December 30th, I stopped by a local liquor store to pick up a bottle of champagne to celebrate the New Year.  I typically buy a bottle of champagne only once or twice a year and it’s usually the same brand: Moet & Chandon White Star.

I made my way to the champagne aisle and spent a minute or two scanning the shelves but did not see my favorite brand.  I didn’t see any store employees in the aisles, so I returned to the front of the store and noticed a cashier who was busy doing side work because there were no customers checking out at the time.

Here’s our conversation, pretty much word-for-word:

Me: “Do you know if you carry Moet & Chandon White Star Champagne?”

Her: “Did you see it on the shelf?”

Me: “No.”

Her: “Then we don’t carry it.”

About that time, I recalled there was a cooler in one corner of the store where they stocked chilled white wines.  Perhaps they also stocked chilled champagne?  Sure enough, I discovered a whole row of bottles of Moet & Chandon White Star Champagne priced at $52 per bottle.

I reached for the bottle but then decided not to reward this store—and the poor customer service I received—with the purchase.  Instead, on my way out I informed the cashier that, should another customer ask, they did in fact carry Moet & Chandon White Star Champagne.  I mentioned that it sells for $52 per bottle and they’ll find it in the cooler.

She seemed surprised that I wasn’t buying a bottle though had she really thought about it, she wouldn’t have been surprised at all.

Now contrast the above story with this one:  It too is a true story.  Last weekend, I stopped by an Ulta salon for a haircut.  The stylist was a good conversationalist, took her time, and did a good job.

As I was paying for the haircut, Roxanne expressed genuine interest in a cut that I had bandaged on my right thumb.  She hadn’t noticed it before now and asked, “O-h-h…what did you do to your thumb?”

I explained that I really didn’t injure it.  It was just that during the winter months in Colorado, it’s especially dry and my skin tends to crack on my thumb and one or two other areas of my hand.  I told her that I’d tried a variety of lotions but nothing seemed to help.

She then said, “Have you tried Glysolid?” as she lead me to the product.  She handed me the thin red container saying, “You should try this.  I used to have the same condition but now my hands are silky smooth—see?”  She held out her hands for me to inspect and guess what?  They were smooth and she made a $9 sale!

Think about it:  How often do you really encounter employees like Roxanne who express genuinely interest in you?  Now, consider how often you encounter employees who are apathetic—employees you might characterize as indifferent toward serving you, the customer (e.g., employees who might say, “If you didn’t see it on the shelf then we don’t carry it.  Have a nice day.”).

Would these employees demonstrate the care and concern necessary to ask about an injury you may have received to your thumb?  Would these employees really bother to take a personal interest in you?  Probably not.  Would they have made an additional $9 sale like Roxanne?  Probably not.

Memorable service drives sales.  Forgettable service does not.