The $20 Hat That Created a Customer for Life

Most businesses think marketing is about getting the next sale.

I think the best marketing creates customers who never leave.

Let me tell you about two companies. One lost me forever over a free pizza. The other probably earned tens of thousands of dollars from me with a $20 hat.

When I was 14, I moved to Idaho kicking and screaming.

I had no friends. My dad and I lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment. He gave me the bedroom while he slept on a futon in the living room.

Money was tight.

Next to our apartment was a pizza place that ran a promotion—and they still do it today. Their billboard would say something like:

"Jonathan, today is your day for a free pizza!"

One day, my name was on the sign.

We were excited. We made an evening out of it. I spent the entire day looking forward to my free pizza.

We walked into the restaurant only to be told the promotion was limited to the first five people.

That wasn't on the sign.

My dad explained our situation and politely asked if they'd make an exception just this once.

They said no.

So we walked across the street and got burgers instead.

I've lived in Boise for 25 years now.

I've eaten thousands of pizzas.

I've never stepped foot in that restaurant again.

If friends suggest going there, I refuse. I've promised myself they'll never get a dollar from me.

One free pizza could have created a customer for life.

Instead, they lost one forever.

Fast forward 25 years.

I started seeing a girl who was really into mountain biking. She rides bikes made by Transition out of Bellingham, Washington, and she absolutely loves them.

She told me about Transition's annual bike demo event where anyone could show up and ride their bikes for free. She enjoyed the experience so much that she eventually bought not one, but two Transition bikes.

Eventually, I bought one too.

Now to be fair, Transition makes fantastic bikes. None of this matters if your product isn't good. Plenty of companies make great bikes—Santa Cruz, Trek, Giant, Specialized. A great customer experience can't save a bad product.

But when several companies make a great product, the experience often becomes the deciding factor.

A few months later, my bike needed service, so I took it into my local bike shop here in Boise.

When I came back to pick it up, I noticed a Sprinter van wrapped in Transition branding parked outside.

As I loaded my bike into my truck, a guy walked over to the van, grabbed a hat that perfectly matched my bike, smiled, and said,

"You want a good-looking hat to go with that good-looking bike?"

Absolutely.

He introduced himself and explained that his job was to travel around the country visiting bike shops, meeting customers, and riding with local riders.

Then he asked a simple question.

"Want to come ride with us?"

Think about that for a second.

He wasn't trying to sell me another bike.

He wasn't pitching accessories.

He wasn't asking me to post about the brand.

He was simply welcoming me into the community.

So I went.

We spent the afternoon riding together, talking bikes, talking trails, and just having a good time.

Nobody tried to sell me anything.

Nobody handed me a brochure.

Nobody gave me a sales pitch.

I remembered being that scared 14-year-old kid who didn't know anyone in Idaho.

Now, years later, I was the new guy again—this time in mountain biking—and someone made me feel like I belonged.

That's what I remember.

Not the bike.

Not the geometry.

Not the suspension.

The feeling.

I have no idea what it costs Transition to send employees around the country in a branded van handing out hats and riding bikes with customers.

I'm guessing it isn't cheap.

But I can tell you this.

I'll probably never own another brand of mountain bike.

Every time I need a new bike, Transition will be my first stop.

Most of my riding gear now has their logo on it.

I recommend them to friends.

I tell people they're the best, even though I honestly don't have enough experience to compare them to every other brand.

Over my lifetime, I'll probably spend tens of thousands of dollars with that company.

Not because they gave me a free hat.

It wasn't really about the hat.

The hat was just a $20 reminder that someone took the time to make me feel like I belonged.

That's what created a customer for life.

I wrote another blog a while back about planting seeds—doing things today that may not pay off for months or even years. This is the same idea.

Great businesses aren't obsessed with squeezing every dollar out of today's customer.

They're planting seeds they'll harvest years from now.

Sometimes that seed is a free pizza.

Sometimes it's a free hat.

Sometimes it's simply making someone feel welcome.

Every interaction plants something.

You're either planting loyalty...

or resentment.

Twenty-five years later, people still remember which one you chose.

So ask yourself this:

What are your customers going to remember about you 25 years from now?