Greg

I’ve been frequenting the Post Office at 3490 South and 4400 West in West Valley City pretty much exclusively for the last few years. It isn’t close to any place I live, work or generally go. I stumbled upon it a couple of years ago when I was in the area for something else and had to mail a package.

Now, I go out of my way to do my business even though I have a good friend who is the Post Master – or whatever they call them these days, of the Post Office right on my way home. There is also another Post Office that services my home and where I HAVE to go to pick up packages or sign for mail. I don’t like it, but I HAVE to go there for some business. I prefer that West Valley Post Office that is way out of the way!

The reason is a guy named Greg. Greg is one of the Post Office employees that sits behind the counter and waits on people who walk through the door all day long, day in and day out. He loves his job. You can tell. And he seems to like his customers. You enjoy the experience. I’ll let others go if I think I can get to his window. And he does a very conversational job of cross-selling.

He is infectious. Over the last couple of years I have seen the general quality of all the counter staff at this Post Office become more like Greg. I think that a company that wanted to improve their customer service ought to send their people over to that West Valley Post Office and watch Greg all day long. Not only would they have lots to talk about, but they would probably also be infected.

Do you know who Greg reminds me of? Ian. Ian (sorry, it was thirty-years ago and I can’t recall his last name – it is remarkable I can remember his first!) was on the wait staff at the British tailor I went to see in Mildenhall, England to buy two tailored 100% wool suits with two pants and a waist-coat (vest for all you Yanks out there) prior to leaving to serve a two-year mission in Scotland and Ireland for my church in 1976.

Ian was not enthusiastic. He was not bubbly. Ian was genuine. Ian was attentive. Ian was kind and sensitive. Ian took wonderful care of me all through the buying process. And Ian conversationally “cross sold” me into a couple of beautiful ties to go with my two suits, dozen white shirts, and socks. He did this even though I already owned a “back of the closet door” full of ties to go with my suits. I remember Ian thirty years later. If I didn’t live in Utah, I’d go back there and buy some more suits from Ian. Frankly, I’ve been looking for an Ian here in Utah and he just isn’t here.

Sometimes I wonder if I ought to go be Ian at some place in Utah. I wonder if what I know about assisting people in making such an important decision about their image (which I learned from Ian) is something that I really owe to Utah men. But that is wistful thinking for another day …

Greg – now Greg ought to work for a tailor! I would imagine that he makes a decent living. If I was in the kind of business that needed someone like that right now, I’d go find out what it would take to get Greg to come work for me. I’d find a way to get that for him. And I would watch as his infectious spirit permeated the rest of my staff.

Go see Greg if you get a chance. And then tell me what you think. You can get stamps anywhere. You can’t see that kind of service at very many places. Especially not at a Post Office!