Lesson Five: Uncle Charlie

Uncle Charlie worked the night shift for 30 years in a Ford plant in Oshawa, Ontario before retiring out west to open a flower shop on Main Street Penticton, British Columbia.

“The dusty hills called to me,” he’d say.

Uncle Charlie had an unusual hobby. He walked the shore of Lake Okanagan, binoculars in hand, searching for the elusive Ogopogo— Canada’s Loch Ness monster.

One day as we strolled the sandy beach, I asked him, “Why a flower shop?”

“After working nights all those years I wanted to embrace the day,” he told me. “Flowers are like sunshine.”

Now Charlie wasn’t a businessman, he’d worked his whole life in the auto plant, but the flower shop did a brisk business. He didn’t advertise and his hours were terrible (Uncle Charlie had a problem with sleeping in), but customers flocked to his little shop.

“What’s your secret?” I asked.

“I don’t have a secret,” he winked. “I just do what’s common sense. I think, ‘what would I want from a flower shop,’ and that’s what I give my customers.

“For instance, when a guy comes in looking lost and like he’s in trouble with his gal, I help him pick out something that will smooth over whatever he’s done. Then I ask for his wife’s birthday and their anniversary and I call him a day or two before to remind him he needs to get her flowers. Some days when it’s slow, I’ll call some fellas at work and tell them ‘it’s a good day to do something nice for your lady, stop by and pick up some flowers on your way home.’ I’ve saved more marriages than the Pope.

“I do other things. No woman who walks in here leaves empty handed. Even if she doesn’t buy anything I give her a rose, or a nice gerbera just for stopping by. I say, a flower for a beautiful lady and wink at her.

“I’m an old guy,” he went on, “so I can get away with stuff. I flirt with old ladies. In fact I flirt with the young ones, too. I don’t try to sell anyone. I don’t care if they buy. I mean, I do, but I don’t.What’s most important is that I brighten their day.Most people buy something.”

“You’re amazing,” I said.

“It’s just common sense,” Charlie told me.

Most businesses could use a dose of Uncle Charlie’s common sense. How about yours?







Principles of Persuassion by Shane Spark