It was a random late Friday afternoon in July when I received a call from Kelsey, a regular client. She wanted to discuss an event in mid-September. It was a lot of business— breakfast and lunch, all week, for 100 people.
We had just made it through a very long, hectic, understaffed week. I was a little cranky and wanted to go home. She said she needed the proposal by Monday morning.
Ugh. She had to wait until 4:30 p.m. on Friday to spring this on me? She said she was sorry for the short notice. “I have a meeting scheduled with my boss Monday at 11:00 a.m.,” said Kelsey. “Reviewing your proposal is on the agenda.”
The event was eight weeks away (an eternity in the corporate drop-off world). We’d need at least a half-hour to discuss the specifics, and I’d need another solid hour, maybe longer, to put the proposal together.
Me: Kelsey, can we do this first thing Monday morning?
Note: This is/was a terrible suggestion. Way too many things can intervene. These are some that come to mind and have all happened:
• An employee calls in sick and your morning routine is altered.
• Kelsey has a fire to put out at work and can’t talk as scheduled.
• You have an unexpected issue at home and cannot get in as early as you planned to.
• The board of health shows up for a Monday morning inspection (oh, what joy their visits can be).
• The power goes down. No phones, no computers—no proposal.
• Your produce vendor calls. His truck broke down and your large, very important, and very time sensitive delivery you needed by 9:00 a.m. will be there by noon, hopefully.
Kelsey: We can’t do it now?
Me: I’m sorry. I have one foot out the door and I don’t want to rush through it.
Kelsey: OK, I get in at 8:00 a.m. on Monday.
Me: Can I call you first thing?
Kelsey: Will that be enough time to get it done for my 11:00 a.m. meeting?
Me: That will be P L E N T Y of time.
Kelsey: OK. Then I’ll talk to you on Monday.
Later that evening
In a more relaxed state, I reflected on the phone call. “Breakfast and lunch for a 100 people for five days…that will be a lot of dough.”
When I took the call, instead of banging my fists on my highchair (the nerve of a client calling me on a Friday afternoon, offering me possibly $12,000+ worth of business), maybe I should have taken a breath, had a discussion, and worked on the proposal over the weekend.
Saturday
Going about my usual Saturday errands/business, I find my thoughts floating back to the call. I try to make myself feel better. “It’ll be fine. Kelsey and I have a good working relationship. As long as I get her the proposal before her meeting, which I will, everything will work out. I’ll even go in early on Monday.”
Sunday
I acknowledge, “Whatever was so important about getting out of the office Friday feels like a very distant memory. I have to remember to handle this situation differently next time. It’s not worth it. It’s been nagging at me all weekend.”
Monday morning
7:00 a.m.: I leave a voice mail, “Hi Kelsey, I know you won’t be in for another hour. Please call me as soon as you get settled in, so I can get you the proposal.”
8:30 a.m.: Another voice mail, “Hi Kelsey, just checking to see if you are in yet. Please call me ASAP regarding then proposal.
9:30 a.m.: Sensing doom, one last message, “Hi Kelsey, maybe I misunderstood. I thought we were going to speak first thing this morning. Please call me when you can.
Monday afternoon
1:30 p.m.: Message from Kelsey, “Hi, I’ve had a crazy morning and am just getting your messages. After we spoke on Friday, my boss moved our meeting to 10:00 a.m. He said I better call someone else as backup, just in case. This morning, traffic was a nightmare. I was late, and have been playing catch-up ever since. Because the timing got messed up, we are going with another caterer, I’m sorry. There is an event in the spring, which I’ll call you for.”
Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. After deservedly beating myself up the next few days, I tried to put what happened in perspective, and called it a “Painful customer-service growth opportunity.”
Present day
When a customer or potential customer calls and makes any of these statements:
• “I’d like to place an order.”
• “I’d like to get some information about your catering services.”
• “I’d like to get a proposal.”
This is code for, “I want to—or am considering—giving your business money. In some cases, lots of money.”
Today, when I answer these calls, I envision the person on the other end trying to hand me a credit card. If I feel hassled, I imagine putting my hand up to stop them and saying, “I don’t want your money now. Perhaps later, but this particular moment is not convenient for me. I have something more important to do.” This exercise usually delivers me back to Planet Earth.
P.S. I got lucky. We did cater the spring event for Kelsey. It was a big success. Needless to say, she received the proposal—with plenty of time to spare.
Michael Rosman is a member of the Catersource consulting team. If you would like information about him coming to your business to address your specific needs, please email Carl Sacks at [email protected]. His book, Lessons Learned From Our Mistakes – and other war stories from the catering battlefield is available through the Catersource store. You can visit Michael’s website at www.TheCorporateCaterer.com email [email protected].
