Retail 101: What we can learn about marketing from a drug dealer.

(Part One of a series on how retailers miss the customer message:)

My wife and I were sitting over lunch yesterday discussing what certain retailers do well and others completely miss: How to interest, hook and close the customer and extend the loyalty of the single customer to yield more and better results. After some back-and-forth discourse on one of our favorite topics — fragrance — I finally made the analogy that I think works most appropriately in that case but could probably extend to a wider range of products if we’re simply creative. It begins with one major premise:

The Dope Dealer can teach us volumes about the psychology of the customer. If you think that I’m kidding, just read on and you’ll see how this fits together.

I’ve seen a product on-line — let’s say it’s a particular fragrance from Bond No. 9, in this example — that has a description of its olfactory elements, although I’m certainly not prone to purchase based solely on a written description. After all, fragrance is a very personal thing. Therefore, I want to go to the store and have someone close the sale for me. So I walk into one of the few places where I can purchase Bond No. 9 perfumes outside of the boutique in New York City: Saks Fifth Avenue. I’m greeted by an associate who now wants to show me a variety of fragrances in the line and begins pushing bottles in my direction before she really knows what I want (for reference, there are some 35+ scents available). I ask about one, and my behavior probably suggests that I know a little something about my search and have something in mind though not yet ‘sold’. I try a couple of scents on paper to determine if they’re to my liking before I settle on one or two.

Those one or two I try on skin to determine if they then meet my body chemistry, as well as whether the scent is something I’d like. My wife comes by and then smells each. She asks the pivotal question:

“Do you have a sample available?” The salesperson senses immediately that we’re not very serious about purchasing — which would be wrong — and becomes stingy with doling out one of the samples (which comes wrapped like a salt-water taffy).

“Sorry, we don’t have any samples,” instead wanting to guide us to a ‘Bon Bon Box” that includes either 9 or 18 large vials of scent, available from $150-235. After a minute or so of banter, we agree that I need to let the fragrance settle into my skin for a while and decide what our next steps would be. Out the door was one answer.

Let’s change the tableau a bit by replacing the 50′ish sales-lady with a veteran dope dealer who knows a little about creating product loyalty. Supposing he would have been in charge of that counter, this might have been the exchange:

“I’ve got 35 fragrances, what are the sorts of things you like?” he asks.

“I tend toward deeper, complex Ambers and woody notes, nothing too androgynous, but something that makes an elegant impression,” I respond.

“Check this out, have I got something for you,” as he sprays a card with a scent. “If you want unique, this is the real deal. Breathe this in! Nice isn’t it?”

“No, just not quite my style, sorry,” I respond.

“Oh, you want something more uptown? I’m holding back a little on this, but it’s some really pure stuff. It’s like Liquid Crack, one smell and you’ll be in a different place. Smell this,” as he hands over the card. It’s different, it’s unique, it’s nice, but I’m still not quite sold.

“Tell you what,” he says, “I’ve got a couple samples. Take these, if you like it, you’ll know where to find me. I know you’ll be back. Here’s my card, I’ll get you hooked up,” as he hands me a couple of vials of this new and different aroma. I walk out, ready to try it on and get comfortable with the scent. Already a couple of things have happened that are different.

1. The ‘pusher’ has already gotten to know what I like, and guided me to a first option, then a second.

2. Once he’s gotten my interest in the second option, he’s smoothly placed a couple of samples with me, let me know who he is, where I can find him, and let me know he’d take care of me.

The Dope Peddler is more likely to make the sale than the woman nearing pension-age who has a superiority complex about working behind the retail counter and being in control of the sample drawer. At day’s end, the drug-pusher will probably have gotten me hooked if he knows I’m in the market. It’s how it works on the streets, it’s the way they lure in their clients, it’s the way they get them interested in the product, and it’s the way they make money — more and more — from that same customer because psychologically they’ve connected with their needs and gotten them hooked on satisfying that need.

Drug Dealer, 1; Old Sales Lady, 0. Are you listening Saks Fifth Avenue? Your business is retail, and in a down economy, you need to do more to land the sale. If you still think I’m joking with this, consider also the following:

The Dealer knows his customer. In my little scenario, the Dealer got to know what I already liked, what I would probably buy, and then guided me to the right product. Whether you’re selling Crack, Coke, or a fragrance, there isn’t a lot of difference. He knows how to hook the customer with a taste and then get their interest and trust in being a long-term customer. For the cost of a sample, he has someone who now remembers where they got that fix and is no doubt looking to return.
The Dealer knows his role. In my scenario, the Dealer knew he was there to sell something, and he might need to be a little creative to close the deal. The deluded sales person? Probably more interested in carrying on gossip or complaining about the choice of music or how she’d rather be home. She’s not quite as motivated. She also doesn’t realize that, when it’s all boiled down, she’s not being paid enough to afford the merchandise she’s selling to her customers, pure and simple. The reality check has bounced and she’s not getting the message.
The Dealer isn’t going to look at one customer any differently than another, and he’ll probably notice details and visual queues not perceived by the allegedly experienced sales associate. What sort of clothes is the customer wearing? Has he seen them before in the store? Do they look as if they’re open to buying if encouraged, or are they really just passing through?

This is how Saks botched a sale on a product that only they generally sell in very few locations. A virtual lock on a market, yet they couldn’t close the deal. But they aren’t the only ones who refuse to get the message.

In my next installment, I’ll provide some more examples of how cleverness and an understanding of the customer can result in generating more business, and why the deep-discounter approach isn’t a sustainable model unless your focus is the discount business. To make it in the quality game, you need to understand the customer, your product, and how your pitch and hook will make the difference between their perception of quality versus a perception of indifference.