Matt, our sales manager, bounced into the office the other day with a look of amazement on his face. “You’re not going to believe this,” he said to me as he handed me a copy of an article from that day’s Arizona Republic, “but this was my client.”
The article gave a gruesome account of a Phoenix businessman who had been missing for days, and had been found — well, some of him had been found—”legless, armless and headless” in a trash bin.
Matt, who sold advertising space for a weekly newspaper in Phoenix before moving to Akron, then added, “I always knew Ira was shady.”
“Shady?” I asked.
Matt explained that the first time he met Ira, a local bar owner, he kept Matt waiting for 45 minutes. When he finally arrived, he couldn’t stay focused on the conversation. His eyes darted from doorway to doorway as he fidgeted with his pen.
Nothing but problems ensued after the contract was signed. Invoices weren’t paid, and when Matt went to collect, he was often sent on wild goose chases, waiting at various locations for meetings that never took place.
Matt may not have predicted the grim ending to Ira’s life, but he did know, from that very first encounter, that something was awry in this man’s business dealings.
If he had trusted his first impression, Matt could have saved himself the energy he spent chasing the guy around town. (Matt found out that Ira still owed the paper for ads even at the time of his death.)
Too often, I kick myself for not trusting my first impressions. How many times do we hear how important they are, only to not pay any attention to them when they hit you in the face? How many times do we tout their importance, then show up for our next client meeting in “casual-day attire.”
Walking into FedEx Custom Critical (formerly Roberts Express) headquarters the other day, I was struck by how congenial the receptionist was. As I waited for our photographer to finish his work, she actually offered to go to the pop machine to buy me a Coke!
But it wasn’t just her demeanor that impressed me. Her “desk” was set up as a large island in the middle of the lobby. It was decorated with a few tasteful personal touches, including a vase of fresh flowers. In a display holder lay a stack of business cards that read: “Kathy McDonald, Leader of First Impressions.”
There was no searching for the right cubicle with the slumped over secretary who will “be with you in a moment.” Here was a lobby that was set up to greet the visitor. And a receptionist who knew how to do it. I mean a leader of first impressions.
(Phoenix police still haven’t found Ira’s killer — or his head.) Connie Swenson ([email protected]) is editor of SBN.
