LJ Idol Week 29, Stage 4, Topic C: What I Wish Someone Would Ask Me
I am a difficult woman to please.
It once took me three years to find a hairstylist whose work I liked and whom I trusted to cut my hair. My hair grew past my shoulder blades before I discovered Cija, the most remarkable hairstylist in Northern Virginia. I went to four different doctors before I finally found one I loved. I questioned a half dozen friends with children before I picked a pediatrician for my son. I switched banks three times before I found the one that I was willing to stay with.
For my money, I insist on excellent service, exemplary knowledge, and the absolute best products. And if any of those are lacking, I will tell everyone I know.
That said, when I do find a store or service provider that I love, I want to tell everyone! Maybe it's a sickness, but I absolutely love when people ask me to refer them to a business. A friend of mine once told me that she always calls me first to ask for a recommendation, because she knows that I always find the best, and that there is no reason for her to do a search herself when I have already done all of the work. I live for moments like that.
Please, just ask, because I am dying to share.
I will even do what I can to encourage the question: "Don't you love my new earrings?"
"Oh yes! Where did you get them?"
"Oh I am SO glad you asked! Let me tell you about my jewelry lady!"
When I wear a sweater that I have knitted myself, I cannot wait for someone to ask where I got it. Aside from the pure vanity of being able to say that I made it myself, it affords me the opportunity to promote my favorite yarn store (Uniquities, in Vienna, VA) or my favorite online yarn store (www.knitpicks.com).
I have become rather bold, too. When a co-worker mentioned that her son had gotten injured in gym class, I let her know that I know one of the only pediatric chiropractors in Northern Virginia, and quickly pulled out her business card. (My co-worker was grateful, and I fed my need to promote my son's chiropractor's practice.)
And don't even get me started about dieting. I fully admit that whatever diet is working for me at the time is the one I promote to everyone I have ever met. That is how I got ten of my friends on e-diets back in the 90s, how I got my whole family on the South Beach Diet back when it was the fad, and why I will drag people in my car with me to my Weight Watchers meeting now. At the time, each was perfect, and I wanted everyone and I mean everyone to come along with me.
Like I said, it's a sickness. But I think I am not the only one affected by it. Most of the women I know want you to use "their guy." How many of us mention a need--for an exterminator, a handy man, a plumber, a doctor, a hairstylist--and have our friends jump at the chance to give us a number to call. I finally found Cija the Fabulous Hairstylist through a friend--who not only was happy to refer me but drove me to the salon and sat in the chair next to me while I got my hair cut. (I, in turn, handed out about 30 of Cija's business cards over the next three years, bringing her more than a dozen new clients.) I have my own sources to call for recommendations, and they are equally thrilled to pull out a business card an glow about their guy.
As for me, I have more of other people's business cards in my purse than I have of my own, just in case I should meet someone who needs my financial advisor, or my chiropractor, or my bra lady. And I will put that person in my car and drive her to meet a vendor I love, just to make sure that they actually meet!
I admit that I have moments of sadness when people don't believe that my vendor is the best. After all, what does it say about what you think about me if you can't trust my taste in service providers?
I said it before, and I'll say it again: it's a sickness. But in truth, I simply want my favorite mechanic, plumber, hair stylist, nail tech, chiropractor, financial advisor, and doctors to be wildly successful in their businesses, so that they don't go out of business, and I don't have to go searching for someone new. So indulge me, please. Just ask! I can't wait to introduce you.
It once took me three years to find a hairstylist whose work I liked and whom I trusted to cut my hair. My hair grew past my shoulder blades before I discovered Cija, the most remarkable hairstylist in Northern Virginia. I went to four different doctors before I finally found one I loved. I questioned a half dozen friends with children before I picked a pediatrician for my son. I switched banks three times before I found the one that I was willing to stay with.
For my money, I insist on excellent service, exemplary knowledge, and the absolute best products. And if any of those are lacking, I will tell everyone I know.
That said, when I do find a store or service provider that I love, I want to tell everyone! Maybe it's a sickness, but I absolutely love when people ask me to refer them to a business. A friend of mine once told me that she always calls me first to ask for a recommendation, because she knows that I always find the best, and that there is no reason for her to do a search herself when I have already done all of the work. I live for moments like that.
Please, just ask, because I am dying to share.
I will even do what I can to encourage the question: "Don't you love my new earrings?"
"Oh yes! Where did you get them?"
"Oh I am SO glad you asked! Let me tell you about my jewelry lady!"
When I wear a sweater that I have knitted myself, I cannot wait for someone to ask where I got it. Aside from the pure vanity of being able to say that I made it myself, it affords me the opportunity to promote my favorite yarn store (Uniquities, in Vienna, VA) or my favorite online yarn store (www.knitpicks.com).
I have become rather bold, too. When a co-worker mentioned that her son had gotten injured in gym class, I let her know that I know one of the only pediatric chiropractors in Northern Virginia, and quickly pulled out her business card. (My co-worker was grateful, and I fed my need to promote my son's chiropractor's practice.)
And don't even get me started about dieting. I fully admit that whatever diet is working for me at the time is the one I promote to everyone I have ever met. That is how I got ten of my friends on e-diets back in the 90s, how I got my whole family on the South Beach Diet back when it was the fad, and why I will drag people in my car with me to my Weight Watchers meeting now. At the time, each was perfect, and I wanted everyone and I mean everyone to come along with me.
Like I said, it's a sickness. But I think I am not the only one affected by it. Most of the women I know want you to use "their guy." How many of us mention a need--for an exterminator, a handy man, a plumber, a doctor, a hairstylist--and have our friends jump at the chance to give us a number to call. I finally found Cija the Fabulous Hairstylist through a friend--who not only was happy to refer me but drove me to the salon and sat in the chair next to me while I got my hair cut. (I, in turn, handed out about 30 of Cija's business cards over the next three years, bringing her more than a dozen new clients.) I have my own sources to call for recommendations, and they are equally thrilled to pull out a business card an glow about their guy.
As for me, I have more of other people's business cards in my purse than I have of my own, just in case I should meet someone who needs my financial advisor, or my chiropractor, or my bra lady. And I will put that person in my car and drive her to meet a vendor I love, just to make sure that they actually meet!
I admit that I have moments of sadness when people don't believe that my vendor is the best. After all, what does it say about what you think about me if you can't trust my taste in service providers?
I said it before, and I'll say it again: it's a sickness. But in truth, I simply want my favorite mechanic, plumber, hair stylist, nail tech, chiropractor, financial advisor, and doctors to be wildly successful in their businesses, so that they don't go out of business, and I don't have to go searching for someone new. So indulge me, please. Just ask! I can't wait to introduce you.