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Somebody bring me my sammich!

Brad Cannon | 09/20/2016

 

Last month, I told you about my sushi guy – Alvin. Great guy who really knows how to take care of his

 

customers who inadvertently has left a serious vacuum at his previous employer’s restaurant since leaving to start his own.

 

Let’s talk about the opposite…

 

I like to hunt. Unfortunately, it’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to really pursue it like I want to. This year will be different. In years past, I’ve always hunted with my rifle, but this year will be different. My son has taken an interest in going hunting with me, and last year I got him a bow for Christmas. He’s pretty good with it, and we’ve had a good time practicing together. Unfortunately, my bow of almost 20 years finally gave up the ghost. Time for a new one.

 

And our story begins…

 

I did some research online, since it’s been a while since I’ve been bow shopping. I narrowed my options down to a couple of different bows that I wanted to take a look at, and saw some of the places they were sold.

 

My son and I hopped in my truck and headed out to a very well-known ‘big box’ sports store so that I could see them in person and decide what felt best. It bears mentioning that I was prepared to spend close to $800 to get what I wanted. I don’t buy bows often, so I’m not scared to spend what it takes to make me happy.

 

We get to the store, and go to the archery section. There’s a modest selection of bows (a little disappointing), but enough that I might find what I’m looking for.

 

About 15 feet away from the display (and me) is where the sales counter (and sales guy) are. He is assembling bows for display on the bow press.

 

He does not look at me.

He does not greet me.

He does not acknowledge my presence in any discernable way.

 

I start talking to my son about the bows on the wall. I start pulling different bows down off the wall, holding them up, looking through the sights. I wonder out loud about which bow might be best for me, what accessories might be best for each, all kinds of things that a sales guy would interpret as BUYING SIGNALS.

 

After about 15 minutes, I have had a chance to pull down each bow in the department, look at what I wanted to see, and since the “salesman” had still not seen fit to act like there was even anyone there besides himself, my son and I left.

 

We went across the street to another ‘big box’ sports store to try our luck there. They only had 4 bows in stock – none of which were what I wanted. Frustrated, we went to a 3rd sporting goods store that was just up the street. They also only had a couple of bows available.

 

At this point I’m pretty aggravated. It shouldn’t be this hard. Against my better judgment, I go back to the first store. They had bows I was interested in, if the employee would just speak to me.

 

I’m back at the back wall again. Same guy is still there, perched on his stool like a buzzard on power lines. Still doesn’t speak to me.

 

At this point, it has become a weird little game for me. I decide to throw enough buying signals his way that any reasonable human being would feel obligated to speak to me. I pick up arrows, a release, broadhead tips, and several other accessories and hand them to my son to hold. I say in a ‘little too loud’ of a voice “I’ll need this stuff to go with a new bow.” Then we wait as I pull another bow off the wall.

 

A few seconds later, I hear the “salesman’s” voice for the first time. What did he say?

 

As I heard him begin to speak, I turned around to face him so we could FINALLY start the process of getting a bow.

 

Only it didn’t go down like that. As I turned around, I saw his hand on the intercom button of his walkie-talkie, and what he said was, “Somebody bring me my Jimmy John’s sub!”

 

That this man is still breathing is evidence that there is a God.

 

At this point, I took all the accessories we had picked up off the shelf put them on the counter and advised my son in a voice that a Southern Baptist Hell-fire and brimstone preacher would have been proud of, that these people weren’t interested in selling ANYTHING and we’d buy from someone who appreciated our time and money.

 

Side note: it’s at times like these that my wife usually won’t walk near me as I leave the store – and I get in trouble in the car for ‘being embarrassing.’ My son stuck his chest out and walked next to me all the way to the truck. Never been more proud…

 

The next day, I went to a local gun/archery store that’s about 40 minutes from my house. I knew of the place, but hadn’t wanted to drive that far. I sucked it up and made the drive. The front of the store is a gun store, and then there is a big hallway about 15 feet wide that takes you to the back where the archery section is. There are about 200 animal head mounts on the left wall (not an exaggeration) and all kinds of gear on the right wall. When you get to the back, there are at least 200 bows on display. There are 4 bow smiths on duty and they are VERY busy with customers. Stacked deep. Nobody is upset. There is a shooting lane for testing bows there by the counter. It becomes clear pretty quickly that these guys know their stuff, and folks are happy to wait to get helped. As a matter of fact, everyone is talking to each other the whole time. It’s a happening place.

 

I wander around for about 20 minutes, just trying to take in all the bows and narrow down what I want. Eventually, things slow down enough that one of the guys behind the counter comes around and starts talking with me about bows. He asks all kinds of questions, including a lot of things I hadn’t considered, and eventually I settle on a really nice PSE Brute Force bow. At any of the big box stores, my story would have ended there at a cash register. Not here.

 

Doug (my new ‘archery guy’) takes me up to the shooting lane and measures my arms for my draw length. He then sets the draw length on the bow to match me. I pull back a few times to make sure, and then he measures me for the peep sight. And goes back and installs that. Then he has me shoot at 20 yards to make sure the peep and draw length are correct. Check. Then he sets the draw weight, and I shoot 5 more arrows. Adjusts accordingly. Then I shoot 5 more arrows and he adjusts the scope. Repeat three more times to get the 20 scope peg sighted in, and I am hitting the bullseye consistently. Feel like a rock star.

 

He walks me through picking out a release, giving me the benefits of each. We then choose some broad heads for the arrows. It’s at this point that he explains that it will just be a couple more minutes, they are almost done cutting me 5 custom length arrows to go with my new bow purchase. They made 5 arrows SPECIFICALLY tailored to me.

 

Last week, I bought a brand new bow and left two online reviews. The takeaway here is that people will do online research to find what they want to buy, and will find where they want to buy as well. I researched bows, found what I wanted, and used the internet to find the closest place to get it. When I went there, it was a miserable fail.

 

In my article last month, a great employee and no owner/customer affinity led to a HUGE loss in revenue for a local business. This month, a big box company spent a lot of time/energy/money to build an online presence that led me right to their door – only to make a horrible impression, piss me off, lose a sale, and harvest a really colorful bad review that I crafted with great enthusiasm. I took equal pleasure in writing a good review for the other guys. Don’t be the first guy, whose company spends huge amounts of money and energy online only to have folks find out they’re jerks.