How To Succeed In Business ...by really trying

Yesterday, by one of those masterstrokes of stage management for which The Almighty is rightly celebrated (See Old Testament, Books 1-1001) the second day of London Fashion Week coincided precisely with the first day of The Deluge, as the style-setting streets of Soho, which only 24 hours previously had been bathed in the golden sunlight of a glorious Indian Summer, were hit by a monsoon of Biblical proportions.  On every corner willowy nymphs posed and pouted in the downpour, as flash bulbs competed with lightning flashes on the pavements of the Fashion Capital of the World (one particular gaggle of flamingo-limbed fashion models, sprouting Star Trek-inspired hair-dos several hours in the sculpting, looked like a stand of monkey-puzzle trees swaying in the storm). 

And I had lost my umbrella.  Gone was the mighty shillelagh-handled giant that had kept me dry (and street-safe) for five years, replaced, for the morning, by a “bag-size” brolly of the kind most commonly brandished by tight-rope walkers and circus elephants. Imagine, therefore, my shame as I carried this tiny, wind-twisted piece of Taiwanese plastic into that walnut-panelled Seventh Wonder of the Umbrella World, the Aladdin’s Cave of the silver-topped cane and shooting-stick, James Smith and Son, established 1830. I was a pitiable sight, standing there with my “collapsible” amidst the proud rows of ramrod-solid rain-shades and stout walking sticks standing erect in their gleaming Victorian racks.   It was the busiest morning of the year. The shop was brim-full of steaming, soaked bodies. But I was spoken to in seconds: “Someone will be with you in two minutes.” And they were. I explained my quest and immediately the century-old solid oak chart drawers were unlocked. My guide, an ancient and venerable Zen Master in the art of umbrella-making, stood silently by my side as I tried several of the burnished wooden club-head handles for weight and shape and that delicious feeling of “rightness of fit” as the wood hinges in the heel of the hand.  But when I did eventually find the perfect burr, the shaft, sadly, was too slender for the golf-size frame I need for my hunk-size frame. So we began again, unhurried by the thousands of pounds worth of transactions that were popping the cash registers around us every minute.   And then I saw it, a supremely knotty knob of ash-wood naturally shaped into a serpent’s head.  My finger-tips lowered lightly over the crown (it is important not to flex the tendons when gauging grip) and then slowly raise the wrist and… Eureka!  Now to find the right frame.  I wasn’t offered a lifetime warranty or after-sales agreement.  There was no mention of Nectar Cards, Air-Miles or Loyalty Points.  Instead the manager explained, somewhat apologetically, that as it was now Friday afternoon, the assembled umbrella would not be ready until at least the next day, Saturday, or possibly even Monday morning.  Four hours later my phone rang.  My newly-made brolly was ready for collection, if I could just get there before closing five thirty closing time..? 

But what else could I get from this?

The front-of-house had been handled to perfection, the service had been authoritative and attentive, and at each stage my expectations had been managed, then exceeded. Respect! Show that to your customers (even on the busiest day of the year) and your business may also succeed for a couple of centuries.