Living in a small community means you often know things about strangers’ lives: who he’s related to, where she works, who her kids hang out with, where else he has worked, and a myriad other odd details. At the same time, you might not really know that person – around here people say, “I know of him.”

My family knew of one man who was a Dollar General cashier. He had another job as well. All four of us had a positive impression of him. He was always friendly and particularly polite. We even know that he lives on our street because we see his truck at a house about a mile away from ours. When we heard that he was fired from his second job for being rude, we were really surprised. We felt it was probably unfair. After awhile, he didn’t work at the Dollar General anymore, but showed up in the convenient store across the street. Again, we felt bad for the guy. He was clearly a hard worker, and willing to do whatever he needed to in order to have a job. Third shift in a convenient store can be a tough gig.

Then, one night, we were headed out of town and needed a bag of ice. We stopped at the store and the friendly cashier was working.

There was a group of teenage boys in line in front of my husband, who really just needed the key to the ice chest (really? people steal ice? geez.). My husband asked for the key. The nice man we thought so well of suddenly turned rude. He refused to give my husband the key, and acted like we were going to steal the ice.

 

Maybe he was afraid he would get in trouble for just handing over the key. Maybe he was worried about the group of teenagers stealing something. Regardless, he didn’t have to be rude. But he was. It ended up taking over 15 minutes for us to buy a $2 bag of ice, and we felt like suspects or something.

That one interaction changed everything we thought about this person. Now instead of saying “the nice cashier who lives down the street,” we say “that weird guy who used to work at the Dollar Store.” After hundreds of positive encounters, this ONE ugly one wiped away our good feelings toward this man. It didn’t have anything to do with customer service, although it was a bad experience on that level, too. What I’m talking about is much more personal.

Now when we run into this guy, or he is our cashier, we feel wary. We don’t know what to expect. Will he be nice? Will he imply we are thieves? How is he feeling that day?

It amazes me that one bad experience can outweigh hundreds of good ones. But, since the night we bought ice, I’ve observed the same sort of thing with other people – you think you have a comfortable – if shallow – relationship with them, then all of a sudden, things aren’t so comfortable.

As the owner of a small business, I’m finding an especially important lesson in these observations. Everyone has “off” days when we are maybe snippier than we realize. It’s scary to think that on one of those not-so-fabulous days I might unwittingly change how a long-term client views me and my business. Some client relationships take months or even years to build, and while I hope that after that much time, both parties would be a little more lenient with judgement, you never know.

Of course, I work hard to make sure my relationships with clients go a little deeper than my relationships with cashiers who work at stores nearby. But in one way it doesn’t really matter. A bad interaction can color the relationship, making it so that either party is looking for the negatives – and that is bad for a service provider who bases her prices partly on providing outstanding overall service.

I’m not sure there is a way to guard against coming across rougher than you intend to once in a while. The best we can do is try to understand when someone else does so in the hopes others will do the same for us. I’m going to try to think of the “weird guy” as a “nice guy” again, and just imagine that he was having a bad day and that he didn’t really think we would steal the ice.

Have you ever had one incident change the nature of a sales or customer oriented relationship?

 

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Your email newsletter design is similar to your business card design. You need it to grab attention, deliver information and make the person looking at it want to know more. While I am a writer, not a designer, I have looked at hundreds of email newsletter templates, and I’ve seen some really bad ones. Here are a few reasons your email newsletter template sucks:

1. It’s ginormous. If all I see on the screen when I open your newsletter is the name of your company in five-inch-tall bold lettering, I’m annoyed. I have no idea if I want to even make the effort to move my finger and scroll down. Usually, I just hit delete. Sorry.

If I do go to the trouble of scrolling, and your font is so big that I have to keep scrolling and keep scrolling to read your content, I’m going to be annoyed. Annoyed prospects are less likely to buy from you. I know how to adjust the size of the text on my screen, so you really don’t have to make the text of your newsletter huge.

2. The colors are painful. Just because you can make the background orange and the text blue, doesn’t mean you should. In fact, when you do those kinds of things, your newsletter appears unprofessional. Color is fun. Fonts are fun. But they are also dangerous.

If you want orange in your newsletter, try using it in a border. If you want to use a “fun” font, use it in a title. Otherwise, you risk making your message harder to read, and people are busy. They are not going to put in any extra effort to read something that makes their heads hurt.

There are people who will help you design a template for future use, and their services are often reasonably priced. Get in touch. I’ll be happy to help you come up with something functional that won’t cause your prospects pain.

3. Your images are weird. If you don’t know how to manipulate images so that they don’t appear flattened or stretched when you put them in your newsletter, you might want to consider leaving them out. The best thing to do is invest a little time in learning how to make them work. Most email distribution services have great tutorials and help sections on their sites, and quite a few have really good customer services reps who will help you by phone.

4. Columns. Or lack of columns. Personally, I like two columns, but personal preference varies. Some folks don’t like columns at all, and that is fine, though a table of contents or a “what’s in this issue” section is nice. However you decide to go, make sure it’s easy to navigate your newsletter and that it’s easy to see whatever you want recipients to see.

Do you want people to click through to your site? Then make sure the link is obvious. Want people to “like” your page on Facebook? Then don’t bury a link to your page at the bottom of your newsletter. When you have too much “filler,” you end up with clutter, and then people don’t even see your wonderful offer or your excellent article.

There are lots of reasons to market by email. There are not many excuses for sending out horrible newsletters. Before you even begin putting together a template, you should think about your reasons for sending a newsletter at all. What do you want to accomplish? How can your template help you achieve that goal?

Of course, all of this ranting could just be evidence of my steadily increasing crotchetiness. Do you find horrible email design an assault to your inbox? Maybe other people love seeing all the bright colors and nifty fonts. Please, chime in. I’m curious if this bugs other people, too.

 

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While I was still in college (and we were very, very poor) we rented a trailer from my grandfather. He decided it was time for us to buy a house, and gave us 30 days to find one – nevermind the fact that our annual income was somewhere around $10,000 a year, or that we had no credit history whatsoever.

 

As we were searching for another place to rent, a friend told us about an ad he’d seen in a newspaper that he thought we should check out. As he was talking, he went over to his couch and started digging between the cushions. He came up with a crumpled, three week old newspaper. The ad was for a house for $3500. We figured it was a misprint.

 

It was not  a misprint. It was just a shack on a tiny lot. There were two other people interested in buying it, but both deals fell through because they tried to borrow enough money to turn the shack into a house. My husband’s parents loaned us the $3500 and we paid cash for the house. It didn’t have water, electricity, heat, interior walls or ceilings, and there was a 6′ hole across the back wall. We got water hooked up and moved in.

 

I’m not sure how long we lived without electricity, but there were at least a few weeks where we cooked on a propane camping stove and used a cooler instead of a refrigerator. Over the next 10 years, we worked on that house, doing what we could ourselves and getting lots of help from friends and family. We got countless splinters in our feet because the floors were covered in plywood, my kids owned way more winter clothing than most kids in Tennessee, and sometimes it felt like we were permanently camping.

 

Eventually, I got tired of freezing. We bought another, slightly nicer and much warmer, house. Good friends, who knew exactly what they were getting into, rented our old house. They lived there for awhile, then moved far away. Then, a cousin needed a place to stay and lived there for awhile, but he also got tired of freezing. We finally decided that we didn’t want to own it anymore – not just anyone can live there because you need certain skills to deal with some of the problems that surface when you live in a not-quite-finished house.

 

We put an ad in the paper, listed it on eBay classifieds, Craigslist, Oodle and everywhere else we could think of and got a few inquiries, mostly from people in the neighborhood who wanted to find out which house was for sale. The lack of interest was surprising because we priced it at $25,000. It still needs work, but it would probably only take about $10-15,000 to make it a really nice house, so the buyer would end up getting a great deal.

 

It seems that people don’t really want a great deal if it involves work. Or, maybe people can’t get loans because of the economy. Whatever the reason, we now need to make a decision about what to do with that piece of property. We have some options, but that almost makes deciding harder.

 

Of course, we want to do whatever will create the greatest return with the least amount of hassle. Selling the house as it is, in one simple transaction was our Plan A. Since that hasn’t worked out for us, we are looking at options that will present some hassle, but that will still generate a profit. As we consider this big decision, here are some things that we are learning:

 

Take your time. The longer you wait, the more possibilities you see, and while that complicates the process, it also means you don’t feel forced into doing anything. When Plan A fails, you might think there is only one Plan B and that it must work or you’ll be doomed. Slow down and a variety of other options and possibilities might present themselves.

Be open. If you are not open all those possibilities that occur to you over time will be useless. Having a flexible mindset will allow you to think more creatively about your decision and the possible outcome.

Research and investigate. It is no fun to deal with unforeseen surprises after struggling to come to the best decision, especially if it took you a long time to decide. Research online, talk to experts, ask lots of questions, and gather as much information as possible so that you are informed and knowledgeable.

Seek advice from people you respect. You don’t have to follow their advice, but hearing the opinions of people you consider wise can help you see aspects of your problem that you may not otherwise consider. Plus, sometimes talking about a dilemma can help you untangle your thoughts and see your situation more clearly.

 

It doesn’t matter if your big decision is related to business, family or if it is completely internal, taking your time and learning about your options is always smart. A crystal ball that would let you see the future depending on which choices you make today would be nice. Do you have a set of steps you use to make a major decision? Are you cautious, or impulsive when it comes to big choices?

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You know those people who never quit smiling? Who sugar coat even the worst news and serve it up with a vacant mask of a smile? Those people are just icky. Equally intolerable, though, are the ones who  always expect the worse, can’t stand kids or puppies, have innumerable health problems that they don’t mind talking about, hate their jobs and their spouses – should they be so lucky – and whine about how they just don’t have any good luck, ever.

 

Most of us fall in the middle of the miserable to happy spectrum and tend to lean to one side more one day than the next. In my life, I’ve been lucky to know two people who were able to gently remind everyone around them to look on the bright side. One was my mom and the other my aunt Betty. They were sisters-in-law, and passed away years apart, but both of them had amazingly wonderful attitudes without being falsely cheerful.

 

The world is a less shiny place without the two of them in it, but they did leave some lasting reminders to pay attention to the good stuff. People share their favorite stories about those who are gone and a couple that I’ve been told about these two cross my mind regularly. Stories about Mary Ann and Betty almost always bring smiles, just like the two of them did in actuality.

 

My mom and one of her friends, Nancy, had been shopping one afternoon and were on their way home.  Nancy said that as they were riding

along, she was complaining about all the stuff everyone always complains about – kids, bills, work, all the things that make life hard. It was right at sunset and my mom interrupted her to say, “Would you just look at that sunset? Have you ever seen anything so pretty? Wow. Just look at that!” We lived on a mountain, so no doubt, the view of the sunset really was stunning. Nancy told me that now, every time she catches herself complaining, she thinks about that day and remembers to look up and see what kind of amazing beauty she is missing.

 

Just yesterday, someone told me that Betty gave her a similar reminder. Our entire family, probably 60 or more people, took a camping trip to Dauphin Island one year on Easter weekend. A trip like that is rare for us – in fact, it’s the only one I remember – so it was really special. Nellie, another aunt, said that she got up on Saturday morning, and walked to the bathhouse with Betty, complaining about how her tooth brush got flattened in her bag, how a pine cone poked her through the tent floor all night, how yukky showering in a bathhouse is, and on and on. Betty looked at her and laughed and said, “Well, Nellie, you’re just not a happy camper today, are you?” Nellie said just that simple question reminded her of how nice it was to be with her family, at the beach, camping with a bathhouse and everything else that was good about that moment.

 

Right now is an easy time to be angry. Most of us have something to legitimately complain about. The ridiculousness of the United States congress, the insanity of the stock market, the fear of a “double dip” recession, and so many more events happening all over the world have many of us on edge. If your business is down, your income is down, and it’s possible that your attitude is down, too – with good reason.

 

While I don’t suggest that you slap a fake smile on or pretend to feel something you do not, I do firmly believe that your business will benefit if you take some time everyday to appreciate the good stuff. When you do your work fully cognizant of the beauty all around you, every person you interact with notices. It is seriously doubtful that either Mary Ann or Betty was aware of the lasting lessons they taught us just by being themselves.

 

Small talk is inevitable. What does yours say about you? Are you fearful or angry? Do you have a positive outlook that your customers or prospects can pick up on and feel good about? No matter how tough things are there are still sunsets to appreciate.

 

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For 15 years, my wedding set was in a dusty box in storage. The diamond had fallen out and instead of getting it repaired, I boxed it up for “someday.” My rings have an unusual history, and I knew nothing about the diamond. Lack of knowledge led to all sorts of questions:

-Was it really a diamond?
-Could my ring be repaired or would I need a new one?
-Was my diamond nice enough to merit the expense?
-How could I be sure an unethical jeweler wouldn’t steal my diamond and replace it with glass? Would I be able to tell?

 

I really had hoped to get the ring fixed for our 10th wedding anniversary, and took it to a jeweler a colleague recommended. He said he couldn’t tell me anything about the ring because it was too close to Christmas and he wasn’t doing any appraisals. I explained I didn’t really want a formal appraisal, and asked my questions. He said the setting could not be fixed and that I’d have to buy a new one, but still wouldn’t tell me anything about the diamond.

 

That made me sad because the engagement ring and wedding band are a set. Also, the settings the jeweler showed me were EXPENSIVE. So, the rings stayed in their dusty storage box.

 

My rings had belonged to my mom, and so were sentimental for several reasons: my mom died in a car accident when I was 16, so anything of hers feels important; my parents had a strong and happy marriage, and the rings are a symbol of that; and last but not least, they represent my own happy marriage.

 

Now, I have a friend who owns a jewelry store. We haven’t been friends for too long, and I only recently felt comfortable enough with her to ask about getting my ring fixed. When I did finally ask, she said, “Of course!” and was flabbergasted that the other jeweler told me it couldn’t be. She said he probably was just trying to sell an expensive setting. I also found out that my diamond is about 1/3 of a carat and almost perfect. She repaired it and it now lives happily on my left hand.

 

It took 10 years to reach this outcome. Ten years during which I just kept it put away and thought about it occasionally, wondering what I should do – try to save and buy a new setting or find another jeweler for a second opinion? In the meantime, life just kept on flying right by.

 

Waiting for something to happen regarding my ring turned out to be exactly the right thing to do. My friend not only fixed it, she said that it was a fairly easy fix and that she really enjoyed working on it. She didn’t even charge me for the repair. If I had tried to save the money to buy a new setting, I would have wasted at least $800 and ended up with a wedding set that didn’t even match – a worse outcome by far.

 

Although there is never any way to tell, sometimes doing nothing is the right thing to do. Of course, sometimes doing nothing will get you evicted or your lights turned off, so deciding when to do nothing is the challenge. In thinking about when I do nothing and it turns out for the best, I’ve identified a few indicators:

1. There are no deadlines. Nothing dire would happen if my ring were never fixed. I would have been sad about it, but our bills would’ve still been paid, our kids still healthy and we would have remained married. When you have a deadline, timely action is required.

2. Multiple decisions could be “right.” There wasn’t just one path to take, nor was one path more clearly visible than the others. Taking my ring to a different jeweler or buying a new setting or doing nothing were all equally appealing for different reasons.

3. No one else was impacted by my inaction. Having my  ring on my finger makes me happier than it does anyone else. It makes my dad happy because it brings back fond memories, but he doesn’t look at my hand and smile everyday the way I do. It makes my husband happy because he knows it’s something I wanted, but it wasn’t important to him either way. When you are the only one that either taking action or not will impact, then you have the freedom to do nothing without worrying about it.

4. There is no guilt associated with inaction. Many times my actions are based on how bad I will feel if I don’t take them. For example, I will feel bad if I don’t put away my clean laundry. So I do, and that is pretty much the only reason I do. No one else cares if my clothes are put away but me. I didn’t feel guilty about my ring though, and in fact, if I had spent a large amount of money on it, I probably would have felt at least a little guilty.

 

Have you ever put off taking action and had a better outcome because of it? Do you have a way of knowing when you should do something and when you should back off?  

 

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