Karen works in the post office four blocks from my house. She’s an institution in my neighborhood.
She’s friendly, informed, incredibly patient. She has a brother, and loves Prince and roller coasters. I don’t visit her often, but whenIi do, it’s always a pleasure.
The reason I know so much about Karen is because her slot at the homely post office is chock-a-block full of her personality.
There’s the photo of her at Dorney Park, screaming while on a roller coaster. The purple needlepoint tissue cover with Prince’s emblem. There’s another photo of her and her brother hamming it up with celebrity wax figures, and, many other personal effects.
And truly, I’m not so daft as to enjoy going to the post office. The lines are agonizingly long and the environment — excluding Karen’s cheery spot —miserable. But somehow, Karen rises above all of this.
Every day, day after day, she stands within her carefully crafted haven and guides mail-challenged people like me (should I send it certified, express mail, insured mail, or registered mail?!) to the right solution — no more, no less. Amidst the anger and irritation that accompanies any post office experience, she maintains a level disposition I’ll never know.
If you were her boss, what would you do: cheer her on? Instruct her to train others? Give her a raise?
Here’s what her boss did: He told her to clean up her act. Literally. Box up that tissue cover. Strip down the walls. Pack away those photos. Seems the policy manual frowns on personal effects as unsuitable décor for a government institution.
I don’t visit Karen anymore. Turns out what made visiting her worth the extra blocks and the wait was her flair.
Now I visit the independent competitor a half block from my house, the one that never has a line, lets me drop off boxes and, if i’m in a hurry, come back to pay when it suits my schedule. They call my house when they receive a package for me, and provide other concierge-like services that help me get over the premium they charge.
Imagine — all this time I added hassle to my life because of Karen’s uniqueness.
Here’s the point: we think our HR policies affect only those within the company’s walls, but these policies also create barriers between companies and their customers, stripping them of that little sumthin’ sumthin’ that keeps customers coming back.
Ciao, Karen. Tell your boss it was real.
This article was originally published on Fran Melmed’s Free-Range Communication blog.
