Bar Trivia

I spent the better part of 1991 in Campbell River, BC.  The hotel I was living at, the Anchor Inn, had a wireless trivia system in their lounge that was administered by a company called NTN (now NTN Buzztime Inc.).  There were 20 of the little I/O devices pictured in the photo that people had at their tables, and they read multiple choice trivia questions off TV monitors and entered their answers.  (Sorry for the small photo – it was the only image I could find of the old-style units.  Search Google Images for “buzztime” to see what they look like now.)

It was competitive, of course.  You played against the other people in the room and also against other bars all across North America.  People vied for top individual score, and everyone playing at one location also had their scores averaged to find the smartest room on the continent.  There were sometimes thousands of establishments online at once, and to get our little “ANCHOR INN, CAMPBLL RVR, BC” on the top 20 screen was quite a thrill.

This is exactly the sort of interactivity that engages people and makes them stay longer at a bar, return more frequently, and invite other people along.  I can think of many similar examples, including a pub in Cochrane, Alberta that my sister-in-law used to go to every week for “Name That Tune.”  It was a fiercely competitive event where teams of mostly middle-aged people would try and guess song titles and artists.  She had a riot, and the bar was packed every week on what would otherwise be a quiet evening.

I even invented a similar draw for the fledgling bartender that worked the normally DEAD Saturday/Sunday afternoon shifts at Grumpy’s Bar when I worked there in the 80s.  I suggested that he start some kind of ongoing contest and give free beer to the winners.  We settled on Trivial Pursuit, but not played on the board – he read the 12 questions on 2 randomly chosen cards to everyone in the bar, and the patrons wrote down their answers.  The person with the most correct got the free drink.  It was played every half hour and people who otherwise might have left tended to hang around for “just one more try.”  I won’t pretend that we created a huge sensation, but sales for those two shifts did rise from a couple of hundred to five or six hundred.  And stats on the Buzztime site promise a 47% increase in spending per patron when they’re playing on the system.

Too Busy for a Real Post…

… so here’s a link to a place I found when I was googling “About Bars & Marketing.”  It has some ideas about how to market to folks in your establishment using their mobile devices.  There’s a real future in this kind of thing – I was at a Third Tuesday event in a club last night and most people were Twittering away on their mobiles…

You’re Not Old; It’s the Sugar

A friend of mine was complaining on the weekend about the hangover she had, and blaming it on the efficient servers at dinner who never let her wine glass get less than half full.  Another friend mentioned that it was drinking different types of alcohol in one evening that always got her.  They both then, rather depressingly, opined that it was simply old age that had made them unequal to the task.

I beg to differ.  In my experience, mixing drinks can indeed cause an issue, as can too much wine, but not for the reasons they believe.  I’m sure some hematologist (or toxicologist or whatever branch of medicine knows about this stuff) will tell you I’m wrong, but the real problem is how much sugar and other flavoring is in the beverage.

When I was a bartender in Montréal, we drank a lot of shots, but never seemed to have hangovers.  I believe the secret is that almost all of them were straight vodka.  The waitresses (sorry to be sexist, but they were  all women) who were prone to hangovers, drank sweet shooters like Fuzzy Navels (peach schnapps and orange juice), Alabama Slammers (Southern Comfort, amaretto, sloe gin, orange juice, bar mix), B-52s (Kahlua, Bailey’s, Grand Marnier) and such.

My rule of thumb is that the sweeter or darker your wine and spirits are, or the associated mix is, the worse the hangover.  So Port is worse than Merlot, rum is worse than gin, rye&coke is worse that scotch&water, and anything made with bar mix is deadly.  The friend with the bottomless wine glass above ended her evening with a Gin Fizz (gin, bar mix, soda water) – that was the real culprit (although lots of wine, particularly a heavier red like Bordeaux, CabSav, or Chianti, can be bad, too).

Bar mix is a bartender’s lazy ingredient to replace “sugar water” and/or lemon/lime juice in a cocktail recipe.  It looks like Kool-Aid and has a similar percentage make-up of processed sugar.  It’s mixed in a large plastic container with a pour spout on top, and usually kept on the speed-rail.  Depending on the number of “girly-drinks” a bar serves, a couple of litres of the stuff can last for weeks.  I think it’s gross, but it is a staple of classic cocktails like Tom Collins, Planter’s Punch, Singapore Sling and Zombie.

BTW, the other friend is right about mixing  drinks being bad, but only because one of the drinks in the mix is usually sweet.  Mixing lager, wine and armagnac has never hurt me, and I believe it’s because none of them are sweet.  In her case, Smirnoff Ice was the sugary culprit.  So remember – clear, unsweetend booze like vodka, gin, or white rum; with clear, unsweetened mix like soda, tonic or water.  Pale beers.  White or light red wines.  And I’d say “everything in moderation,” but I’m not a weeny.

The Customer is Always Right

+++++++++

NOT.

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In fact, the customer is frequently quite wrong.  “The customer is always right” is an error and a cop-out. 

It’s an error because the merchant or vendor almost always knows far more about what they’re selling than the customer.  So if there is any disagreement between the two, the probability is that the customer is wrong. For instance, suppose I take my car to a mechanic, and tell him that it’s not working properly and could he please change my spark plugs to fix the problem.  He runs some diagnostics, and discovers the computer chip is actually what’s causing the issue – the spark plugs are fine.  If he does what the customer wants, he will a) not fix the problem, and b) be charging me for work that he knows is unnecessary.  It’s his moral duty to tell me (the customer) that I’m wrong.

So that’s why it’s an error – why is it a cop-out?

Because it gives employees in difficult situations “permission” to do something they know is not in the customer’s best interest.  Years ago, I had a stranger come into my bar and ask for my finest V.S.O.P. Cognac.  On ice.  With Coke.  If I were morally stronger, I would have tried to dissuade him from that travesty, but the customer is always right, so I served it to him.  I’ve felt unclean ever since.  I’ve been able to rationalize it by thinking that this patron had some kind of mutant taste bud configuration that actually made this the appropriate way for him to drink cognac…

Another example of people who frequently fold under the “always right” mantra are designers.  When I hire designers for Web sites, brochures, packaging, advertising, etc., I try and give them (mostly) free rein.  Ask Stephen Brander at Razor Creative.  I figure, why am I paying them if I’m going to dilute their ideas?  But as most designers will tell you, clients frequently try and impose their concepts and preferences on the work.  And the designers usually cave, for fiscal reasons.  Check out this comic.

What we should  take away from the “always right” notion that is  valuable, however, is that the customer’s perceptions  are always right, to them.  So if they have a problem or complaint that you can clearly see is unfounded, incorrect, or in some other way nonsensical; remember it makes perfect sense in their world.

Why Are You Scared to Ask for a Referral?

One of the most powerful marketing techniques is getting your happy customers to recommend you to their peers.  I’ve touched on some of the reasons for this in previous posts, but it’s potent because:

1. Your customers will only recommend you to the friends they believe will enjoy/appreciate/use your particular product or service.  No-one is going to refer their granny to their tattoo artist or their son to their gynecologist.  So the recommendees are pre-qualified for you.

2. They will feel good for two reasons – they’re doing their friend a favour by turning them on to something good, and they’re doing you a favour by possibly sending more business your way.  Doing stuff for other folks makes (most) people happy.

3. You lock in your existing customer.  After they’ve told someone how great you are, they’d look foolish if they took their business somewhere else.

So why are people shy of asking for referrals?  I think there are two reasons, one benign and one more sinister.  The benign reason is that there has been such a long impregnation of “the customer is always right” that vendors have developed an inferiority complex.  They think, “my patron has already given me money, how can I ask this additional onerous task of her?”  But wait a sec – you gave her something, too.  And if it was a valuable product or service, and equitably priced, then she’s in your debt as much as you are in hers (which is to say, not at all).  So neither of you owes the other anything – you are on an even pitch.  Asking a favour in those circumstances is fair play.

The darker possible reason is that you feel you’ve put something over on your customer.  You’ve shafted them.  It doesn’t feel “right” asking them to help you after the horrible travesty you’ve perpetrated.  If this is the case, then you’ve got to improve your product until you can be proud  to ask for referrals.

Hidden Messages

Over at Seth’s blog today, he writes about Easter Eggs.  Not like the bunny brings, but the kind that software and games programmers hide in their products.  They are little things like images, extra levels, or even complete little games unto themselves; that can only be seen by executing a specific series of (highly improbable) keystrokes.  For instance, one version of Microsoft Excel had one where you had to use a certain set of navigation keys to go to a specific cell in the spreadsheet, then go through a series of dialog boxes, and hold down three keys simultaneously while clicking something.  If you did all this perfectly, then you would enter a virtual room with all the Excel program team’s names and photos on the walls.

One version of Maximizer (the contact management software I used to be involved with) had a less complicated one, where if you double-clicked the Maximizer logo in the Help>About dialog box three times in a row, a special animated graphic would appear. 

The example Seth mentions is at the bottom of the French washing instructions on this label, which actually really was sewn into some of the laptop bags that Tom Bihn made in 2004.  I’m sure all my readers are sharp enough to translate those three lines, but just in case, it says, “We’re sorry that our president is an idiot.  We didn’t vote for him.”

The point is, Easter Eggs are like insider information.  They give people a sense of being part of a community:  “Hey, is that a Tom Bihn bag?  Did you read the label?” or ”So you’re an Excel power user, eh?  Do you know how to get the programmers’ names to come up?”  People who have special, secret knowledge about something feel more connected to it.

Getting around to bars (Finally! It’s the first bar-related item since June 4!), there are lots of things that I’ve seen done to create a sense of membership. The most common is for honored patrons to have their own dedicated beer stein that always sits on a shelf and is only used by that specific customer.  I’ve seen barstools (or more accurately, places at the bar) dedicated to specific customers, à la Norm on Cheers.  There’s even a club here in Moncton that placed a “Reserved for Joe Smith” sign on the parking spot closest to the door for their best customer.

The technique isn’t what is important, though, nor is it even the people who are recognized.  It’s the understanding  of the system, or the joke, or the irony behind the gimmick that brings your regular customers together into a tribe of shared knowledge.  When someone asks, “What’s the deal with all those steins on the wall,” or ”Who’s Joe Smith?”, and you know the answer, it connects you with the place and the other people who know the answer.

I Hate the Phone

For all my talk about the importance of having conversations with customers, I actually really dislike talking on the phone with people.  It all started when I was a just-turned-teenager, and some of my friends were starting to get into the phone-addiction phase that many adolescents do.  Conversations would go like: 

Friend: “Hey, wanna come over and watch the game?  It starts in 15 minutes.”

Me: “Sure! I’ll be right over.”

Friend: “Did you hear about what Andrew did at school today?”

Me: “No, but let’s talk about it when I’m there in 15 minutes.”

Nowadays, my irritation is more around the requisite polite communications conventions that go with a phone conversation.  Hi, how are you.  How about those Red Sox.  How was your weekend? Some thunderstorm last night, huh?  My preferred method of communication, email, avoids all that.  And it’s asynchronous, so questions and replies are at my schedule (and the other party’s); not demanding instant response.  Perhaps I’d be even happier if we all still communicated by post and the phone and internet didn’t even exist – then there would be a delay of days  between query and reply.

Even instant messaging has most of the problems of telephoning, including the “polite” requirements: Hi ru there?  KThxBye.  I find the measure of how comfortable I am with the people I work with is the degree to which these can be eliminated.  My closest colleagues don’t get salutations on their emails or even the “S.” that I usually sign with.

Cheers,

S.

The Long Tail

In yesterday’s post, and in previous musings about the need to have extremely focused marketing, I have touched on the idea that it’s not necessary to have widespread appeal to be successful. I am certainly not the first to come up with the idea that in a Web 2.0 world, where anyone can find anything, specialization will beat generalization most of the time. Chris Anderson even wrote a book about it: The Long Tail: Why the Future of Business is Selling Less of More.

The idea is that of all the plethora of products out there, only the most popular used to thrive – those in the head. Consider the example of books. There are millions of books written each year. In the past, only a small percentage of those ever got printed – the rest were rejected by publishers. And only a fraction of those that were printed became “successes” by the usual definition of the word. So Charles Dickens and Alex Haley and Carl Sagan became famous; while the learned author of How to Milk a Yak – The Beginner’s Guide never saw her great work published.

But the thing is, there are people who actually care about yak milking and would love to read anything they can get their hands on about the topic. Not many, but still. And now that the Web makes it easy for those llama-lactic people to connect with each other, that book can and will find an audience.

To give some real-world validity to the concept, only half of Amazon.com’s revenue comes from titles that would formerly have been considered “successful,” defined in this case by those you’d find in a bricks and mortar Chapters store. The rest of their income comes from books that generate only a handful of sales (sometimes only one!) each year. But because they don’t have to pay for inventory or rent, that’s OK.

When Google Becomes Omniscient

We are fast approaching a time when every consumer will have perfect knowledge.  Google, or some descendant of it, will have total awareness of everything out there.  And if you allow it to have perfect knowledge of you, too, then every purchase decision can be automated to produce optimal satisfaction for you.

Spend about $2,000 per month on your credit card, never carry a balance, and enjoy scuba diving in the Caribbean?  You should get the Aerogold Visa from RBC – sure it’s got an annual fee, but for that 120 bucks, you’ll earn enough points every year for two executive class tix to Antigua.  It’s the best deal for you.

Kid is 7, quite athletic, excellent cycling skills, likes to go fast?  She should get the Raleigh Rowdy mountain bike – it’s the best suited and best valued option for her.

[BTW, I just made both of those up - don't take them as actual advice.]

So what will be left for salespeople and marketers to do?  It will be our job to:  a) create products that are perfect  for some person or group of people, and b) make sure we accurately describe our offering to the Google-mind.  There will be no more huckstering or snake oil pitching.  The message will be, “here’s what our product (really) is; here’s what it (really) does; and here’s whom we think will choose it over all other alternatives.”

And if we don’t think it will get chosen, we won’t make it.  We’ll make something better (or at least different).

CSI: Criminally Silly Illumination

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation  was one of my favourite shows on TV.  The past tense is because I really liked the early years of the Las Vegas version, when it was all about the science and unravelling the mystery.  I don’t care for the more recent seasons and all the gooey love interests and personal drama between the characters.  Now it’s more like a soap opera than a cop show.  I figure they jumped the shark around the time Grissom bought flowers for Sara; I think it was in season six. 

Why do TV series feel the need to “evolve” away from what originally made them popular?  Is it really necessary to change if you wish to avoid stagnation and death?  This would not seem to be the case for The Simpsons,  which is essentially identical to the original season these 20 years on.  And how does this apply to other businesses?  There are several pubs in Britain that have been in constant operation since the first millennium – they appear to have settled on a static business model.  But Tim Horton’s here in Canada have morphed from a chain of doughnut shops that also served coffee, to coffee shops that also sell doughnuts, to coffee shops that also sell lunch, all in 40 years.  It would now seem that they want to become fast-food shops that also serve coffee and doughnuts on the side.

But now we’ll leave alone the philosophical debate of whether change is necessary for longevity, and address a much more important question: when the CSI techs visit a crime scene, why don’t they ever turn on the frickin’ lights?!?!?   I know, I know – the dim light is dramatic.  And sometimes they need dark to use the phosphorescing chemical indicators and what-not.  But humans get something like 90% of their sensory input from their eyes – we find stuff (like, say, oh, I dunno…  evidence!) better in well-lit situations!  A show that used to pride itself on portraying science as the hero should have a little more common sense.

Back to our regular programming on Monday.  Have a great weekend.