As I soak up the sun, smells and sounds of Patong Beach a smiling face appears above my borrowed copy of The Life of Pi. Yesterday a Jet Ski hire operator had waved to me and I had given him a friendly wave before he dashed back to his duties. Now Op asks me how I am, where I’m from and if I’m travelling alone. The usual dance leading up to the sales pitch but I play along until we get down to it: No, thanks, I don’t want a Jet Ski today.
Op doesn’t leave, however. He’s intrigued. He wants to know why I’m on the beach alone. He points out that most of the other beach-goers have companions: either family, friends, girlfriends or Thai ladies (the paid and the mail-order varieties). He’s now like an Aussie taking the piss out of his best mate and he presses, “Why? Why you not have girlfriend?” I try to explain that I have one back home in Australia but he’s having fun with this and asks me if I’m a man. He wants to know if I’m gay. I promise him that I will go out and find a nice Thai girl and he tells me that he’ll be keeping an eye out for me and my new Thai girlfriend tomorrow. It’s all light-hearted banter and he has made me laugh. I return to my book.
A little later I have abandoned my half-emptied Sprite. A bee has declared it his, just as the little bugger had done each of the two days prior. Op appears again – this time he asks if I’d like a beer. “No, thanks,” I reply. He explains that he wants to give me a beer as a friend, that I don’t have to buy one. I decline as I’m not a big beer drinker and, to my relief, he doesn’t challenge my assertion that I’m Australian. As he then passes by on route to do his duties, he taps me on a raised knee or a shoulder in a good-natured expression of friendship. In a place where most tourists are, by this time, exhausted and irritated with being forever approached by pushy sales people I had joked and conversed with Op and he, in return, had let me to my peace. He knew that I would return to the beach in coming days and that if I wanted a Jet Ski I would think of him. I knew that if I returned a year later he would remember my face and pick up where we left off our joking and conversation.
Six days ago I had arrived here from Phang-Nga and presented myself at the open-air entrance of S&G Family Restaurant. The “Big Boss” recognised me at once from my trip the previous year and honoured me by adopting the Australian greeting of shaking my hand, something I have seen very rarely initiated by a Thai person during my time here (with the exception of a few pushy tailors). It is a genuine gesture and not used lightly in place of the traditional Thai greeting. Others, too, were like that on my return to Patong Beach. Sofia, seller of luggage, recognised me and greeted me warmly. Her cousin asked me if I remembered him from the last time he’d sold me DVDs. The welcoming waitress at one of the Italian restaurants enquired about my friend, Ben, with whom I’d stayed last time. And one of the tailors, seemingly endlessly amused by the very fact of my being, asked me if I remembered our brief but cheerful conversation in November. I did!
For their warm and friendly treatment I have eaten a meal most days at S&G Family Restaurant and at the Italian restaurant, too. The DVD guy gives me a smile as I pass by and occassionally I stop in to stock up on movies. I chat with Sofia and the tailor as I pass them and if I need a bag or a shirt, I know who will look after me.
The principle that people want to do business with friends holds true. It should be noted, however, that it can’t be faked and must be developed. The Thai rotee (pancake) maker who pretends to be my friend while actually trying to scam me is easily spotted. The endless stall-keepers and tailors who line the streets and call to me, “My friend, one moment,” are even more clearly ingenuine.
The five year old perched on a stall reciting the learned, “Hello, you buy,” is also only interested in my money (although in this case, is also too adorable to refuse)
At the end of the day, those who show a genuine interest in their prospective and existing customers reap the rewards. Those who show disinterest or disingenuity don’t. This rule holds just as true in online business as offline and the online techniques mirror offline psychology. It is for this reason that opt-in email mailing lists can be such a hugely effective marketing and sales tool. Consider that the typical e-commerce website will convert somewhere around 1-2% of all visitors. After building rapport with its opt-in subscribers, the owner of a mailing list can eventually convert more than 25% of the subscribers. How do you get subscribers to opt-in? Offer them a free beer!
Update: One of my proof readers, events photographer Pat Brunet of Event Photos, has already applied this lesson. One of his prospects was going to hire a car to drive from Brisbane to the Gold Coast and Pat offered her a lift instead. Pat now has plenty of relaxed time with his prospect to develop a relationship that may well turn into a very profitable sale.
About James Quinn-Hawtin