Open For Business

Advertising is a tricky game. We live in a society where businesses and firms do all they can to wrestle sales away from the competition. What separates the really great companies from others is an ability to create a desire for a product and then wrap it in a catchy slogan or memorable jingle. Something that gets caught in our head and simply will not go away no matter how badly we try to forget it. An important goal in marketing is to show others they need what you have.

Recently, I was driving through a city (which shall remain nameless but could literally be Anywhere, USA) when I noticed a building with 13 enormous letters plastered to the front. Advertising, right? If a business is going to mount 2 large words across the front of its building, it should entice passer-byers to stop and check it out.

So I did.

Upon entering, I immediately realized I was the victim of a classic bait-and-switch operation and what was unfolding in front of me was nothing like the advertised slogan outside. My expectations were not met and if I had paid an entrance fee, I would have demanded it back. There were quite a few people milling around, talking to the employees, but no one else seemed as indignant as I was. They were obviously tricked into stopping by and needed someone of my ilk to show them they had been bamboozled.

After several failed attempts at starting conversations, I grew weary because no one was paying attention to me. It was almost like they were ignoring me. What a lousy business model.

Eventually, I cornered one of the employees and began to direct my ire at him. I told him they could not slather that slogan across their building because it was misleading. I told him they were creating false expectations. I told him they were promising something that was not realistic and people deserved better than to arrive and have their dreams crushed. I painted such a logical and rational argument for my case that Lincoln and Douglas were both doing 360s in their respective graves, applauding my efforts.

I was the champion of the people that afternoon and there was certainly no way the employee could squirm his way out of my grasp. I looked forward to the foolishness of his impending response. But then he explained something that floored me.

The slogan, he said, applied to the employees more than those who came inside. It was the people working there who could not escape the immeasurable grasp of the motto. The very patrons who showed up because of the slogan often (and usually unintentionally) were the ones who advanced the company mantra. While the 13 large letters served as a beacon to attract people, it was the employees who benefited from their interaction with the public. The man went on to tell me quite a few stories about how his life had been changed simply because he worked there. He felt indebted to those coming in because those coming in enriched his life.

As I drove away a few hours later, the backwards slogan in my rear view mirror stated an old slogan that I now viewed with a fresh perspective:

Rescue Mission.