Mr. Carwash and the Extra Mile
Another Way for week of June 9, 2017Excellence was a buzzword in business circles back in the 1980s, set off by the best-selling In Search of Excellence book by authors Thomas Peters and Robert Waterman. They profiled what made businesses, small and large, successful. I always said Peters and Waterman should have met the operator of this particular small town car wash.
I didn’t know his name but I called him Mr. Carwash. He treated me like an old friend after only three weeks of taking my business there. He would appear shortly after you pulled up to the entrance and directed you to “put ‘er in neutral and take your foot off the brake.” He then proceeded to give your tires a good scrubbing, while they whirled around in a special contraption. That done, he brought goodies to the car window: candies for the children, sure, but Mr. Carwash always added a welcome touch for a Mom or Dad with lagging energy: adult candy such as a peppermint or butterscotch.
Next he gave you a coupon with an unusual guarantee: if it rained the day of your car wash, you were to come back within three days for a re-wash. “One woman thought if it rained within three days she’d get a free wash. But that’s not what it says,” he carefully pointed out. “But I gave it to her anyway,” he added. Sometimes he gave you a coupon for $1 off the already low $3 price for your next carwash.
Next Mr. Carwash scrubbed the extra-dirty places on the car with a foaming wand and then finally let you enter the automatic part. While the brushes did their thing, you might spy him grabbing a bit of sandwich. It was his lunch hour, too, after all.
But then he’d be back to guide you out of the bay at precisely the right moment. He said it was tricky, and it was. “You’ve got to move right on out or you’ll miss your rinse. See?” he pointed out ruefully after my very first run. “The front part of your van is spotted,” he said with a touch of disdain or perhaps just disappointment.
In subsequent trips, I learned you shouldn’t move too fast or too slow, because the water would turn off and then the back quarter of your vehicle would wind up spotted. But when I finally managed to pull out just when he directed, Mr. Carwash beamed: “Look at that shine! I love to send people out of here looking their best. Remember no one else in town has the spot-free rinse.”
What made Mr. Carwash’s automatic carwash excellent? Not the candy or coupons. Not the tire scrub or pre-wash. Not the soft brushes or even his special spot-free rinse.
What made that little bay so excellent was Mr. Carwash himself. The personal attention. The feeling that you, and your car, mattered. Mr. Carwash cared about his work.
I once apologized for interrupting his lunch. He wouldn’t hear it. “Oh, that’s okay. I start eating it about 10 o’clock. See, I eat breakfast at 6 a.m.”
Mr. Carwash took pride in getting it right, giving a good wash every time, making his customers happy. While many people today complain that so many workers don’t care about what kind of product they turn out or the service they give, there are still people around like Mr. Carwash.
After I first wrote this column about Mr. Carwash’s superior service in our local paper, I received a letter. In the corner with his return address label, he had scrawled in, “Mr. Carwash.” After that we were on a first name basis and I felt I had lost a friend when he became too ill to work, then finally died. But whenever I think of excellence in a simple chore performed well, I think of the shining example of Mr. Carwash.
No other bay in town had Mr. Carwash.
A heart warming story Thanks for sharing
We can all use more heartwarming stories I think. Thanks for commenting.
so true!
Thanks Melodie, A lovely story. I forward your blog to two dear friends, one whom you know! Bye, Beverly