What the… it sounds like there are cats mjauing inside the room. And it’s like I can’t feel my body. I’m so tired. It’s completely dark. It has to be in the middle of the night. What are the cats doing to me? It sounds like some kind of mating sound. Please stop. I’m whispering. Am I the only one awake? Nah. I’m not awake. Where am I?
I open my eyes. I look at my night stand. I look at the Philips Wake Up Light, and it’s 6 am. No wonder why I’m so tired. The only light in the room is from the numbers showing 6 am.
The sound is a lot louder now. I’ve heard it before. It’s not cats mjauing, and it’s not cats mating. It was all a dream. I know what it is. It’s all coming back to me. The sound was a lot different in the dream. Oh no, it’s the sound of marketing. Ah. No, not again. I can’t believe it.
I walk to the window and I peak outside. And I see it. It’s exactly what I’ve been afraid of.
I’ve never told my neighbor that life is about marketing, and that in order to be a good neighbor, he should understand the concept of selling. If machines are outside your window with the engines running at full speed at 6 AM, you’ll want to know about it, at least before you wake up from a dream of cats mating.
I’ve never told my neighbor that he should treat me like I am a costumer. And that his business (and his life) really needs me. I want information. I want to feel that I am a part of the process, and that I have a choice. I want to be able to buy the white or the black iPhone. It’s not a lot of choice, but it’s still a choice.
I’ve never told my neighbor that neighbors are like businesses. We should be personal, and we need to think like friends do, and behave like friends, because in the end, we want people to trust us, and build strong relationships. The next time he is in his kitchen and he doesn’t have any milk. He should be able to walk five feet, knock on my door, and watch my smile as I walk to the fridge to find him milk.
There are six men outside my window. They are looking at each other and it seems that they’re just waiting for a signal to start digging. And, as I expected, there’s the signal, and the digging begins a few minutes past 6 am. I’m smiling, and the noise, it’s the sound of marketing.
As neighbors, we want to be treated like customers. We want to be sold to. We want to be part of that process. When we’re not… well, what do you think will happen? Will he get the milk the next time he knocks on my door? Will he ever see me smile again?
Of course he will. I’ll even invite him to eat pizza with me. But the point is; he shouldn’t take me for granted, like we shouldn’t take any of our customers for granted. Our customers are our friends. We want our customers to smile every time they think of us. And we want them to keep thinking of us, again and again.