Many companies use terms like “guest” and “partner” to convey the intimacy they have with their customers but the reality is that most employees, when given the opportunity, do not behave as though they are serving a valued guest.

If you’d like to test this assertion, simply show up at your choice of retailer after it has closed for the day. Assuming you can make eye contact with an employee through the locked glass door, see if she is willing to do more than point at her watch and mouth the words, “We’re closed.”

Now, this is where corporate types jump in using words like: policy, procedure, overtime, security, protocol, etc. While all of their points are valid, it doesn’t mean they’re right.

To illustrate, imagine that you had planned a baby shower at your home from 1:00 to 3:00pm and that one of your guests was delayed for some reason and didn’t arrive until 3:15pm—after the event had officially ended and the other guests had left.

Would you refuse to open the front door and simply make eye contact with her through the glass side light panel, point to your watch, and mouth the words, “The party’s over”?

Of course not.

Then why is it acceptable to treat “guests” like that in a business setting?

If you’re going to cite the above list of policy, procedure, overtime, security, protocol, etc. as your justification for this behavior, at least stop referring to your customers as “guests.”

Instead, call them what they really are to your closing staff: a nuisance—an interruption; someone we accept money from during business hours but whom we’d prefer not to see after closing time until the next business day.

Just last week I was in Logan, UT. Being a coffee enthusiast and having read about the mountain grown, Triple Certified coffee at Caffe Ibis, I made it a point to stop by on the day of my arrival.

I showed up at 6:45pm and learned that the store closed at 6:30pm. I peered through the glass door and made eye contact with an employee who pointed to her watch and mouthed the words, “We’re closed.”

Before I returned to my car, however, an energetic employee named Natalie unlocked the front door and engaged me.

I mentioned that I was in town for one night from Denver and had hoped to try a cup of Caffe Ibis coffee that I had read so much about and pick up a pound of beans to take back home.

She said, “The machines are off and the register is closed but let me see what I can do.”

A few minutes later, she appeared with a steeping (literally) cup of coffee and a pound of Double French Roast Blend coffee beans.

I thanked her, paid her $15 in cash, and enjoyed a delicious cup of coffee back in my hotel room.

The following day, on my way out of town, I returned and spent another $28.05 on a latte, ground Espresso Roast Blend, and a Caffe Ibis t-shirt. That’s $43.05 in revenue from a guest that many employees would have labeled a nuisance—an interruption in their day.

And my purchasing hasn’t stopped. I’m back in Denver but enjoyed the coffee so much that I’m planning a repeat purchase of Double French Roast Blend coffee beans from their website. My potential future value to Caffe Ibis is significant.

If the first employee was my only impression of Caffe Ibis, I would have left empty-handed, kept my $15, and may or may not have returned the following day to spend another $28.05. And if I hadn’t experienced its coffee in Logan, I certainly wouldn’t be ordering it by the pound on-line.

This is key: Did the first employee do anything wrong? No. She was following policy. I get that. She was also behaving in a way that is usual, ordinary, and expected by most customers.

Natalie, on the other hand, treated me like her guest. She behaved in a way that was beyond what is usual, ordinary, and expected by most customers. She was refreshing and unique. As a result, she not only made a positive lasting impression, she made a sale!

More key points:

1.) Natalie recognized that, while her job function was to complete the closing checklist, the essence of her job—her highest priority—was to serve her guests.

2.) Her decision to open the locked door and engage me, unlike the completion of the closing checklist, was optional.

3.) And finally, her willingness to go the extra mile cost her employer nothing—it was free! In fact, it resulted in $43.05 in additional sales (and counting…).

Natalie created a promoter (that’s me).

Promoters are customers who not only buy your products/services, they wear your t-shirts, are less price sensitive, and recommend your business to others (as I’m doing now).

While the first employee’s service was ordinary, expected, and made me feel like an interruption in her day, Natalie’s was extraordinary, unexpected, and made me feel like a valued guest.

Care to comment? Be my guest.

Most of us acknowledge that when we’re performing our jobs, we are working.

But what many employees don’t often consider is that their jobs are made up of both mandatory actions that fulfill job functions (i.e., the bullet points on a job description) as well as optional behaviors that fulfill job essence—their highest priority (which, for most service-based businesses, is creating delighted customers).

Most work environments reinforce mandatory job functions through job descriptions, standard operating procedures (SOPs), checklists, etc., and pay little attention to the optional behaviors that, in the end, are the difference between an ordinary transaction and a memorable experience.

Here’s a quick example from the retail industry:

A couple of weeks ago, while in the checkout line at the supermarket, I had a chance to observe the cashier’s interaction with the customer ahead of me.

Typically these interactions are transactional: a screen displays the total, the customer swipes a bank card and signs for her purchases, the cashier presents a receipt, and the customer (9 times out of 10) thanks the cashier—presumably for accepting her money.

The cashier has completed a set of mandatory actions that fulfill her job function. But nothing stood out. No impression was made. An opportunity to make a connection was lost—forever…

But on this particular day, as she scanned a bag of dog food, the cashier asked, “What kind of a dog do you have?”

With that, the cashier and the customer had an enthusiastic exchange about their mutual love of Labrador Retrievers. It wasn’t long—maybe all of 20 seconds—while the customer swiped his bank card and signed for his purchases.

The cashier, by simply posing a question, expressed genuine interest in the customer and transformed a bland and uneventful transaction into a unique and memorable experience. An impression was made. A connection was established.

The cashier’s question was optional and fulfilled the essence of her job: to create a delighted customer. And because questions like these are optional, as customers we don’t always receive them. But when we do, they tend to leave a lasting positive impression.

Perhaps when the customer returns to the store, he will quickly scan the checkout lanes to see whether or not his “friend” is working and, if so, may go out of his way to queue in her line. The cashier may even recognize him and, recalling their previous conversation, ask about his dog.

This is how relationships form. This is how customer loyalty is earned. Customers don’t establish relationships with stores, they establish relationships with the people inside the stores.

Good customer service is rarely the result of perfectly executed mandatory job functions. Rather, it is most often the result of optional behaviors such as expressing genuine interest (e.g., “What kind of a dog do you have?”) and offering sincere and specific compliments (e.g., “You couldn’t have picked a breed with a better disposition.”) that fulfill job essence.

Good customer service is always optional. That’s why we rarely experience it.

Last month while I was awaiting a flight at the Dane County Regional Airport in Madison, Wisconsin, I received a phone call from Lisa, an account executive with FedEx.

Lisa was calling me to check on my newly established corporate account and see whether or not I had any questions or needed any shipping supplies. We had a nice chat during which she pulled up my website and asked me why I was holding a pineapple—but that’s a topic for another blog posting… As our conversation ended, Lisa reinforced that she was available when questions did arise and let me know that she would be sending me an email containing her contact information so I would have a record of it.

So here I was, just four weeks into my corporate account with FedEx and having spent less than $100 in shipping with them at the time, receiving a phone call from a company representative. And it was not simply a rote, transactional call confirming the details of my account. Lisa was fun, animated, engaging, and demonstrated her genuine interest by pulling up my website during our call and asking me questions about my business.

After our call, it occurred to me that in the ten years that I used DHL Express I had never received a call from a company representative. During that period, I spent thousands of dollars on domestic and international shipping. As you may know, DHL Express ceased domestic operations in December 2008. That is why I established a corporate account with FedEx in January.

Companies in general—and overnight shipping companies in particular—live or die based on the confidence customers have in their service. And confidence is reinforced through personalized, memorable customer service. To me, FedEx has consistently delivered confidence and reliability.

Now, after my memorable phone call with Lisa, I see them as delivering a personal touch as well.

Go FedEx!

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?