Back in March, just before everything shut down, I went to get my Georgia license. I got the license, and then they told me that the tabs office had already closed… indefinitely.
So, I’ve been driving around for the past few months with expired tabs, just praying I don’t get pulled over. Luckily, there’s a grocery store across the street, and I don’t leave the house much these days.
Recently, I was finally able to get my new plates, but then I was thwarted again: my old plate would NOT come off.
Thanks to a very helpful neighbor back home in Minnesota, my license plate was very firmly attached to my car. Neither WD40, nor brute strength of my boyfriend, nor rented power tools from Home Depot would do the trick.
Then my boyfriend said the dreaded words: “You’re going to have to call a mechanic.”
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuu…….
After I explained the issue, the first place I called danced around a response. “Welllll…it’s really hard to give an estimate, because it depends on how long it takes, I mean, if we just figure at least an hour of labor, times AB squared, divided by the average wind speed on the day, minus the age of the mechanic, plus the cost of the bolts…probably about $150?” I replied, “I’ll have to call you back.”
The second place I called gave me none of this runaround. The guy, Eli, just said “Just bring it around, and I can take a look at it.” No real answer, sure, but no hemming and hawing either.
I drove in the next day, and explained my predicament to the guy with waist-length blond hair at the counter. With barely a word, he grabbed the phone and a couple of tools, followed me out to my car, and just started in on it.
A few minutes later, just as the bolt began to give way to the needle nose pliers, a larger guy who appeared to be in his late 50s walked over and introduced himself as Eli. We exchanged a little chit chat and a few pleasantries, and it was done. The old license plate was off, and the new one was attached firmly (but not TOO firmly) to my bumper.
Eli said “Welcome to the neighborhood. If you need any work done, come see me.”
You bet I will.
I told this story to my boyfriend, who already has a mechanic he goes to, and his first response was “What was this place called?”
As a potential client, I was fearful about calling around to mechanics because I’ve encountered so many like the first one. Ready to nickel and dime over everything, upsell me at every turn, and use fear to motivate me to unnecessary purchases.
I could have gone to that first place, and they might have charged me the minimum hourly rate for something that took less than five minutes to do. But would I have returned when I had a bigger issue with my car?
Probably not. They lost me before I even got in the door, because they didn’t respond in a straightforward manner, and so I didn’t trust them.
Eli was honest about not knowing how hard a job it would be until he saw it, but he didn’t try to sell me or bullshit me. And once I was in the door, he was generous.
I can name many other times when businesses and brands have won my loyalty through unexpected generosity:
The headshot photographer who gifted me a whole session.
The producer who handed me a surprise check at the end of shooting his contest film.
The demo producer who gave me not just a demo, but the tools to get out there and market that demo.
It’s something to think about.
I’m not encouraging anyone to work for free. Far from it. But maybe… occasionally… to give a gift.
A gift can generate trust with a potential client. Show a long-time client gratitude. Or help someone who’s having a rough time and could use a break.
In all the cases I mentioned, I went in expecting to pay, or not expecting to get paid, or expecting a specific product…and my expectations were blown out of the water.
Their unexpected generosity encourages me to be more generous where I can be.
A reminder: True generosity comes out of the desire to nurture a relationship, but with no actual expectations. If you decide to play some sort of manipulation game, just know that the person on the receiving end of it will probably sense that your gift comes with strings attached.
So, a few questions to consider:
When in your life did someone do something extremely generous for you without expecting anything in return?
How did that make you feel?
In whatever business you are in, how can you be generous without giving away the farm?
Go forth, and give!