Thirty years is a long time to do anything consistently. And even though I might be off by a year, our family has been going to Cape May, New Jersey for family vacation for the better part of three decades. Same two weeks, every June. Some relatives don’t get it. They ask why we go to the same place, year after year. I can’t explain it any better than when you find your Happy Place, you know it, and you mark it in big letters on the calendar every year. We have family countdowns starting January 2. My youngest daughter gives us a monthly reminder.

For the past five years I’ve been conducting some personal research, and while most readers of this space are accustomed to me incorporating several research or data points in my posts, this research is informal. It’s not documented in a noteworthy magazine, website or think tank. It’s a five-year compilation and because my brain still functions better than I acknowledge, it’s pretty accurate.

While the family is sleeping, I’m usually out the door at 5:30 every morning to walk the boardwalk. I walk for a little over three miles, and I cover that in about an hour. It’s good for my heart, good for my brain and, if you’ve ever heard the waves clattering against the rocks and slamming the sand, you understand that it’s good for the soul as well. I walk directly into sunrise on the first leg of my trek.

Starting in the summer of 2021, I made a concerted effort to extend a “Good Morning” greeting to all that I cross paths with on my morning adventure. My better half speaks all over the country about incivility in the workplace and bullying in the workplace, and Kindness is her mantra. Every. Day. If I possessed half the kindness that she has in one pinky finger, I’d be a better man. So, I started my “Good Morning” routine.

I enjoy doing it. I figure, if my greeting can give another person 10 seconds of joy, it’s worth it. Maybe I say “good morning” to a young mother who just had a rough night with a sick child. Maybe I say it to an elderly walker who’s not spoken to another human being in a week. Whatever the circumstance, Kindness is free.

Unofficially, about 90% of walkers over the past five years have returned my greeting. Another 5% are just too serious about their fitness routine to engage. When I see a guy with a $500 bike helmet topping his noggin, sitting astride a $3,000 bike with the accompanying outfit that costs another few hundred dollars, I know he’s not going to respond. I say it anyway. The final 5% are just miserable people who are either self-absorbed, self-centered or just … miserable. They are as easy to spot as the serious fitness fanatics. Remember, I’ve got 5 years of research behind this.

I believe that Kindness extends to one’s business as well.

I’ve written a bunch, recently, about Customer Experience.

Not Customer Service. Customer Experience. I believe they’re two different things. I believe that Customer Experience should be your goal. Customer Service is the low bar to leap when contemplating how you treat your customers.

What I’ve observed on our vacation this year is the places that we like to eat, visit, hang out. While we certainly enjoy better-than-average chefs, and my ladies know exactly which establishment makes the best orange crush (yes, that’s an adult beverage), I’ve noticed another important factor in our leisure selections.

We consistently, year after year, go to the places where we are treated well.

For example, two summers ago, a husband and wife took a chance at starting a small business right on the beach. There was an abandoned space on the boardwalk exactly where everyone in that part of town must walk past to get onto the beach. Maria and her husband thought it a great space for a snack shack. Two years ago, they started Cape May Smash Burgers. The smash burgers are addicting, and if you’ve never had authentic Philadelphia water ice, you’re missing out. Late in the season last year they installed a pizza oven, but they had challenges figuring out the dough for the pizza, and they held off until they got it right.

When I walked up to the window two weeks ago, Maria didn’t ask me what I wanted. She had a big smile on her face, and she said a big “Hello, welcome back.” We chatted about how the pizza oven was working (the pizzas are pretty amazing) and she told me that she took away the Tip Jar. Took it away. She and I used to haggle over how much I was allowed to tip. Now it’s gone. After our chat, Maria asked me what size chocolate water ice I wanted.

Tommy’s Hot Dog stand on Jackson Street is actually owned by Bruce Carlino and his wife, who bought the biz from the original Tommy 10 years ago. Bruce is never confined to the literal hole in the wall that acts as their store front. He wears a goofy, off-balance hot dog hat, every day, and he greets every customer who comes to the stand. They open at 10:57 (for those in the know) and whether you’re slamming down The Godfather Dog (brown mustard and kraut) or a Tornado Dog (Mashed potatoes, chili, cheddar cheese, salsa, banana peppers and sour cream), Bruce is cracking jokes, asking about your family, and taking pictures with your children. If you don’t get to Tommy’s before 11:30, the line will be down to Beach Ave. and around the corner. And Bruce will greet and chat with every one of them. Bruce sells more hot dogs in a day than most vendors in five counties sell in a week.

My question for small business owners is, are you asking your customers “how many are in your party?” Or are you saying, “Good morning, nice to see you. Welcome back?”

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