“The principle here is universal, whether you’re working for an amusement park, a window company, or a supplier to the industry. Does your company have a customer-centric philosophy?”
Those familiar with northwestern Pennsylvania will have heard of Conneaut Lake Park. As a 14-year-old growing up within spitting distance, I began working at the park in 1976. Before my first day, I attended an orientation outlining the rules for working in the food stands.
Most rules were common sense, but one rule required an explanation. The management counted drink cups every night to determine how much product was sold. If the remaining cups did not match the amount of money turned in, someone was either stealing money or giving away drinks.
Two decades later those drink cups led to the development of our FeneTech mission statement.
How?
My first day, I thought that I would be working with my friends, so I was crushed when I was assigned to the worst place to work in the park—Kiddieland. Someone forgot to tell my manager that 14-year-old boys have no patience with little kids.
Worse, I would have to work alone.
So, there I was—by myself with a bunch of little kids. Around noon, a man pushing his daughter in a stroller approached the drink stand with his wife and son. He asked for a cup for the drinking fountain so his daughter could take her medicine. I explained politely that I couldn’t give away empty cups. He would have to purchase a drink.
Exasperated, he asked again. I gulped, thinking, “If I give him this cup, the management will think I’m either stealing money or giving away drinks.” I repeated my mantra.
“Sir, I cannot give you a cup, but you may purchase a drink.”
Red-faced and growling, he snarled, “Okay!” I then delivered the coup de grâce:
“Large, medium, or small?
“I don’t care!” he shouted, turning from red to blue. I grabbed a small cup. Then, as if it couldn’t help myself, I had the youthful audacity to ask, “Coke, orange, or Sprite?” He slammed his meaty hands on the counter. I jumped.
I gave him the drink. Orange.
Angrily, he spun around, intending to dump the drink onto the ground, but instead he sprayed his wife and son with soda. Soaked in orang-y stickiness, the boy began crying, the wife started yelling, and I was thinking, “Maybe I should have just given him the cup.”
A while later, I saw my manager walking purposefully toward my stand, another hapless worker in tow. Upon his arrival, he pointed at me. “Out.” He pointed at the other kid. “In.”
The manager led me to a bench, sat me down, and asked what happened.
I explained the man’s request for the cup and why I didn’t give it to him. In the next 30 seconds, that manager delivered this priceless piece of business advice:
“Rules are meant as guidelines, but some situations require us to do certain things outside the guidelines.”
In essence, go with your gut.
He also told me that it was my personal responsibility to make sure my customers remained happy.
That’s how an awkward episode in June 1976 defined my business philosophy and subsequently inspired FeneTech’s mission statement:
“Our mission is to provide the best products, service and support to each and every customer – every single day.”