Currently it’s six in the evening, and I’ve been at the library for a few hours working on marketing and such for the swing dance event. I love everything I’m doing and learning but am officially done working for the day. Still, I can’t get it off my mind.

Some of the books I’ve been reading about marketing focus strongly on customer service and the individual. The idea is that in today’s world of instant gratification and a million online options, it’s absolutely critical to go “above and beyond” with people. You have to treat them well, one at a time. They simply have too many other places to go if you don’t. I can’t tell you how much sense this makes to me.

Like, lightbulb on!

A few weeks ago I was looking for acupuncture clinics. Well, I found one that really looked sharp. They have a great website, stunning reviews, you name it. Their FAQ (frequently asked questions, Mom) page says they take some insurances–so call for more information. When I stopped by one day, they told me there was a form to fill out online to see if MY insurance was accepted and gave me a little green card with the link to the form on it. Then they answered a few of my questions and were generally helpful but not “over the top” about it. Anyway, I went home, filled out the form online, and–ten days later–got an email that said, “Your insurance does not pay for acupuncture, but let us know if we can still help you.”

Okay. In the beginning I was genuinely excited to have needles stuck in my sick body, but after almost two weeks of waiting and mediocre service, now I’m just–not. Like, spending one hundred and fifty out-of-pocket dollars for an initial visit doesn’t sound fun to me anymore. I guess I could change my mind tomorrow, but that’s how I feel today. This morning I thought, Why didn’t they put that link to the insurance form–I don’t know–on their website? I was already curious about their services and could have easily filled the form out online and saved myself from picking up the phone or getting in the car. And when they told me my insurance was not accepted, why didn’t they say, “We’re sorry. If we can still help you, here’s a discount code for your first visit.”?

I swear I’m not a (giant) customer service diva, and I really don’t care how someone else runs their business. Also, I know I could have done a lot of things differently when I had the dance studio. As they say, hindsight is 20/20. I’m just saying that, more and more, I truly believe little things can make a big difference. I know that in my situation with the acupuncture clinic, it wouldn’t have taken much more for me to feel like I mattered as a customer.

I guess that’s what this is all about, the idea that everyone wants to feel noticed and important, like our dollars and time mean something. Plus, in the world of computers and online shopping, I think we crave honest, human connection. Last week my dad was YELLING into the phone at the automated secretary on the other end–“I WANT TO SPEAK TO A REPRESENTATIVE–I WANT TO SPEAK TO A REPRESENTATIVE!”

With these things in mind, last night at the improv comedy show I performed in, I made a point to go around to every table within twenty feet of the stage and introduce myself. Hi, I’m Marcus. (Insert smile here.) Are you staying for the show? If so, I hope you have a great time. I was super nervous when I started this project, but after the first few tables, I calmed down. Before it was over, I was having the best time–and the show hadn’t even started yet. I met some ladies celebrating a friend’s birthday, talked to one couple who said they were having an affair (uh–probably a joke), and spent over twenty minutes with a woman who used to act, sing, and dance in Branson. “I was a triple threat,” she said.

Of course, I hope my talking to everyone made them feel welcomed and appreciated. I hope it enhanced their experience of the evening. That was the idea. But what I realized today is that I personally got something out of it. I loved meeting new people and hearing their stories. Plus, I was more comfortable on stage because I felt as if I had more friends in the audience, that more people were rooting for me. I don’t think this was just in my head–I think they actually were. Still, the point remains the same–you can’t give without getting. And no matter what you’re trying to give away to another–customer service, a kindness, a smile–you end up also giving to yourself.