A question of trust

A while ago, one of my closest friends was looking for a bike, a little comfort hybrid to ride around with her kids. She read some Consumer Reports, and had an idea of what she wanted. Her husband had purchased several bikes from us, so she came in to look around. She didn't spend much time, was vague about her needs and unwilling to try any bikes. She left, and bought a bike that we carried from Dick's. Ouch!

Another friend remarked during a recent visit, and with no malicious intent, that she buys stuff online, because you can't trust salespeople; they're always trying to sell you stuff you don't need.

A third friend related her experience about purchasing some specialty equipment online: she contacted an outfit that advertised the best prices, got pressured by the phone sales person to make a purchase, felt duped and cheated, and insisted on returning the order. She subsequently made a purchase through a trusted vendor, who offered good expertise, asked key questions to find out what she needed, and offered a fair price.

As consumers, we want to get the best deal. We are trained to distrust salespeople. It's easy enough to buy shoes, or books, or Legos anonymously. But technical equipment is another story. We don't want to feel dumb, yet we want good advice. Reading product reviews and talking to friends can be good starting points. But neither is very objective.

Though frankly, objectivity isn't really what you want. Neither is good advice. What you really want is for someone with some expertise to guide you toward making your own subjective decision. And for that, you have to open up a bit, and trust someone.

It's difficult to put yourself in the hands of an expert, especially one who works on commission. Our staff at Rapid Transit Cycleshop do not work on commission. There are two main reasons for this. One is that rather than creating a conflict of interest between the salesperson and the customer, we want the salesperson to look out for the customer's best interests. The other reason is that the salesperson is only one person in the chain of events that brings the quality product to the customer. The entire staff, from the product buyer, to assembler, to the mechanic who checks the bike and takes care of the follow-up service, the manager who has trained the salesperson to uncover the customer's needs, everyone contributes to the process of putting the right bike in the hands of the right cyclist.

Do we get everyone to trust us? Certainly not, as illustrated by the story of my friend. Commission or not, we obviously still want to make the sale. But here's the thing, we don't want the sale at any cost, because the sale is not the end of the line. Rather, the sale is a begining of a relationship with a customer, and we want that relationship to be based on trust. 

Maybe that's too touchy-feely for some people. Perhaps they prefer that anonymous experience of buying a bike from a megamart. But if you're going to take biking seriously, you have to get a little touchy-feely with your friendly bike shop, or at least a friendly bike shop employee.

So how do you find one?
Go into a shop, and ask a few questions. Do they work on commission? Do they ride bikes in the way that you do? Do they sound like they are willing to answer questions?

If you've walked into the right bike shop, the conversation should change after you've covered some preliminaries. Now, they should be asking you questions. Whether you've walked in with no idea or a very specific idea of what you are looking for, the staff should try to learn more about your needs to help you explore the possibilities.
What was the last bike you rode?
How long have you had it?
What about it did you or did you not enjoy?
How much did you ride in the past?
How do you plan you use the new bike you will buy?
Are there any specific features that you need in a bike?

If they point you to a bike without having asked a single question, keep looking.

Comments

[Dottie]

I enjoy talking with truly knowledgeable sales people, especially bike people, but only after I conduct a huge amount of internet research first. I need a knowledge base and some opinions of my own to make sure I can differentiate good advice from lame advice. I'll always buy bike, book and music stuff locally if I can, because those three establishments I value most in my neighborhood.

Anyway, thanks for running such a great neighborhood store!

[Meg]

Hey, that's a nice work cycle in the picture.

[Ipstenu]

Honestly, this is why I've just recommended my best friend drag her bike 6 miles to your shop to get what she needs, versus the megamart shop near home. When I came in, a raw newbie to the world, your staff were polite to me, helpful, honest, and talked me OUT of buying gloves I didn't need. She didn't even roll her eyes when I bounced around like a monkey, running back and forth to check things out. I felt like she was amused, but never condescending.

Thank you.

[Justyna]

Thank you for recommending us to your friend, and for your confidence in us. You comment put a smile on my face.

[nb]

You write about one of your closest friends in a public forum with the suggestion that she distrusted you and should have bought a bike from you. Nothing you say bears this out, however.

Her friendship doesn't mean she's obligated to buy from you. Buying from Dick's Sporting Goods doesn't mean she distrusted you. Why do you assume either point?

Have you asked her why she didn't buy from you? The reason could very well be that Dick's prices are lower than yours.

The way you handle an experience that hurt you is to air it on the internet with the implication that your friend should have acted differently.

Anyone who might happen to read your blog knows your side of the story, but does your friend? Or will she be reading it here for the first time and probably feeling a little stung?

Either way, you are the one who has betrayed a trust by broadcasting a problem you had with a friend.

Who are the man and woman in the photo accompanying your blog post? Is it possible they are your close friend and her husband? Your audience has no way of knowing.

You say to your readers, "Though frankly, objectivity isn't really what you want. Neither is good advice." Please, allow us to decide for ourselves. Don't verbally assault our ability to think.

"Objectivity isn't really what you want. Neither is good advice." If this were the motto of any business on earth, customers would run to Dick's Sporting Goods no matter what the price.

Your store might offer great products and services, but your flawed thinking leads me to distrust you.

[Justyna]

You raise some good points. Part of the problem with a public forum like this is that you really can't give the full story, or you would bore the readers to death.
So, here it is:
I would not write anything like this about my friend without her knowledge. This incident took place a number of years ago, and we have since discussed it at length. Dick's prices had nothing to do with her decision. She saw a bike there she liked, and was under the mistaken impression that she couldn't get it from us. That was miscommunication, not mistrust.
The person in the photo is actually MY husband (note the "Bicycle Retailer" bag), and a satisfied customer with her Dutch child carrier bike.
In saying that objectivity or good advice isn't what you want, I had not meant to question anyone's ability to think for themselves. On the contrary. In my line of work, I have the opportunity to observe countless spouses, friends and other helpers offer "good advice" to their partners shopping for a new bike. Though well meaning, this "good advice" is rarely in the best interest of the person making the purchase. It often reflects the experiences of the advice giver. In my view, this approach is not allowing the person to think for themselves.
On the question of objectivity, magazine and internet reviews can certainly be used for research purposes, though don't for a moment assume that they are truly objective. In my view, one should use those, and any tips collected from friends, as part of the information-gathering process, as one of the commenters above suggested.
I see my job, and the job of my staff, to be, as I stated in the post, to guide the bike buyer to making his or her own informed decision. We certainly offer advice, when asked, but it is always with the understanding that we are sharing our own subjective experience, and understand that the customer's experience may be quite different. This allows, say, a fixie riding 20-something salesperson to appropriately fit a newly-retired gentleman on a recumbent. This approach has won us the trust of many satisfied customers over the past fifteen years, no matter what Dick's prices may be.

[nb]

Thanks for telling the truth about the incident with your friend. It was not boring at all. On the contrary, it was interesting to see how you falsely cast what really happened to fit your theme.

Regarding magazine and internet reviews, stop telling me what to assume or not assume (..."though don't for a moment assume that they are truly objective" ). I neither want nor asked for your advice.

Your blog is useful and interesting, but telling readers what they want and what to think is controlling and annoying.

[Justyna]

Well, it's my blog. Take what you need, and leave the rest.

[nb]

I'm glad you allow the opportunity for readers to converse with you, which is more valuable than simply taking what a blogger says or leaving it.

Thank you for the dialogue.

[Jesse]

Along the lines of bike shops who will talk you out of upgrades and give you honest advice; when I was relatively new to biking I went into a bike shop in Lincoln, NE called Monkey Wrench. I told them I wanted to buy some new tires and the guy told me that my tires would last me at least through the winter and he suggested I hold off for awhile. This honesty is what led me to return to this shop to buy my Surly LHT and spend probably another $1000 there in the next couple of months.

The guy also loaned me his personal Chrome messenger bag to try out for a couple weeks to decide if I liked it enough to buy one. This is beyond the kind of service I would expect from my LBS, but the tire thing was spot on.

Now I know a little more about bikes and I can figure most of this stuff out on my own, but it's always nice to be talked out of a frivolous purchase.

[John]

A good bike shop is a pleasure to have around. A couple around here are kind of like Floyd's barber shop. A place where we can simple hang around and dream of having one of those, and two of these. Oo oo, I like that, and that.