A Pitch That Doesn’t Feel Like A Pitch At All

In response to this post, I’ve decided to work through and write each of the ten blog posts I said I’d rather read. Here is my submission for number one!

In July of 2008, I was admitted into the hospital after an agonizing couple of days. Lucky for me, the issue wasn’t too serious, and I was sent home after a one night stay.

While I remember that hospital stay quite well (it was the only hospital stay I can remember, and I was alone and felt quite lonely as my husband had school to go to), it’s the leaving of the hospital that is most vividly painted in my mind.

At this particular hospital, it is policy for all patients who are leaving the facility to be wheeled out via wheelchair. Apparently, you can’t just get up out of bed and walk out the door. You need to call a wheelchair. And most of the people manning the wheelchairs, at this particular hospital, are volunteers.

So here I am. Waiting to go home. Waiting in my room with my husband for my wheelchair and wheelchair driver. Then, they arrive.

And it’s about the least likely person I could imagine for them to send up to wheel me out.

The person who appeared at my door was an elderly man. I assume he was in his 70s, perhaps even early 80s. I felt like I should be the one wheeling him out. When I went to stand up to get in the wheelchair, he quickly rushed to my side to take my arm (which wasn’t really needed, I could walk and stand perfectly fine). While wheeling me through the hallways, he spoke to me with great compassion in his voice. He wanted to make sure that I was going to be okay.

When we arrived outside, and my husband went to pull the car up, the old man said something to me I probably will never forget: he invited me to his church.

Now we’re all used to people inviting us to church. Sometimes you might even find it intrusive. And my husband and I already attend a church that we enjoy. But none of that is the point.

This invitation was different. He didn’t say it in a forceful way. In fact, I think we were talking about something and the conversation transition was seamless. He told me how his church wasn’t far from the hospital, and how they had just done a lot of renovations. He said he would be “delighted” if I ever wanted to come.

I thanked him for the invitation, felt my heart smile, and went to stand up to get in the car which was now parked in front of me with my husband in it. The old man rushed to my side again, grabbed my arm, and helped me into the car. He wished us well, and that was that.

It doesn’t seem like a life-changing experience. Things like this happen every day. But, being the person I am, I can draw a couple intense marketing lessons from this experience.

You want to close the deal? You want to make a sale? You need to go out of your way to meet your customers where they are – emotionally, physically, mentally, and in whatever other ways you can.

This man goes out of his way to get people to visit his church. He regularly volunteers to go to a place crawling with people who need some hope and fellowship, and he meets them where they are. He meets their physical needs (wheeling them out of the building). He meets their emotional needs (comfort, support, and understanding). I bet the number of familiar faces he sees at church are high, because people will remember someone who goes out of their way for them.

And most importantly, you need to give a pitch that doesn’t feel like a pitch at all.

If we boil it down, and looking back, I was pitched that day. He had an end goal and wanted to seal a deal with me (no matter how nice of a deal it was). He wanted me to visit and become a member of his church.

But at the time, I didn’t feel like I was being pitched. I didn’t feel threatened or defensive. I felt grateful that he thought about me and my needs and wanted to help me.

Imagine a world where the people you’re trying to sell to are grateful for your pitch.

This is how I want to be remembered as a marketer. I want to meet people where they are, meet their needs, care about them as people, and offer solutions that seem as unintimidating as the old man at the hospital that day.

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