Melbourne Bicycle Centre: Two Thumbs Up!

Image credit: EssPea
It’s quite rare these days, which is rather sad, given that it’s not really that hard to do. When a customer has a positive experience with a business, it takes them by surprise. It fills them with hope (and all sorts of warm, gooey goodness) and inspires them to rave about the experience to their friends. Sometimes it even drives them to write blog posts extolling the virtues of the business that provided the service.
Like this one.
Here’s my story. I bought my mountain bike a few years ago from Brunswick Street Cycles, primarily because it was closer to work and carries a good range. Because of that initial purchase, I felt some form of loyalty to the place, like they might know my bike better than anyone, because they sold it to me.
But the staff there gradually started to annoy me. They never listened to what it was I was explaining when talking about a specific bike light or set of gloves that I was after, instead resorting to a condescending “we know best, take this one” that was delivered with a fake smile. Eventually I got jack of being treated like a dummy (and of being overcharged for everything) so looked around for an alternative bicycle store.
A few weeks ago, when I decided to buy a child seat to transport the most precious of cargo to and from childcare, I took a look at Melbourne Bicycle Centre (round the corner from BSC). The sales attendant was helpful enough, and the purchase was relatively straightforward. But it’s the post-sale experience that really impressed me.
First, I had trouble fitting the rack to which the child seat attached. According to the enclosed instructions, it should have been possible to attach the rack using only one of two sets of supporting rods, but on my bike neither of the rods were long enough. I stopped by the store on the way to work one morning to ask, and they helpfully explained that on most mountain bikes, both rods were needed. They offered to fit it for me, but I’m a bit stubborn with that stuff (I like to do it myself), so they quickly demonstrated with another model that was on the shelf. I went home and tried using both sets, and sure enough the rack fit perfectly.
OK, so nothing out of the ordinary there. Good service, but not great. But there’s more.
Today I had another question for them about my child seat. In the past few weeks of using it, I’d been getting worried about the fact that the rear light on my seat pole was obscured. It’s quite dark by the time I ride home from work in winter, so other than the small clip-on light that I have attached to my backpack, there are no lights to flash at motorists behind me. As any night-time cyclist knows, it’s all about being seen. Riding in a black turtleneck jumper and using an understated, single light might look more hip and minimalist, but I’d prefer to be dressed in fluorescent yellow and lit up like a Christmas Tree as it increases my chance of arriving home safely.

Image credit: Brian Kraft
I went back to MBC, looking to make my purchase. I explained my dilemma to the sales attendant — this time, a solid, solemn gentleman with an enormous tattoo that covered half of his neck — who leaped to action with immediate purpose. He offered the warning, “It’s going to take some fabricating of a bracket and a …” but he never finished his sentence. He’d drifted off into the labyrinthine workshop, scurrying under benches for bolts and other bits and pieces to hack together.
When he emerged, he was holding a small plastic bracket. The bracket contained two small screw holes that fit the reflector on my back rack perfectly, and twisted upwards with a rotating connector that was identical to the one used by my existing light. Basically, this was the missing piece to my jigsaw puzzle.
“See? You can fit it this way, or this way, depending on whether you want your light to sit vertically or horizontally,” he beamed with a smile that was at odds with the angry demonic face scowling on his neck.
“What do I owe you for that?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing. You bought the seat from us, so…” was his response.
And with those words, Melbourne Bicycle Centre created for themselves a fan. They could have charged me for the part, and I’d have been happy to pay for it. They could have even sold me a new light, as that is what I was intent on buying anyway. But because they (1) listened to me, and (2) understood that I was a repeat customer, rather than a one-off visitor who should be fleeced, they both saved me money and made me smile.
And that’s why I’ll be back.
If you want to buy a bike, or any kind of bicycle accessory, then I thoroughly recommend Melbourne Bicycle Centre. They are clearly passionate about riding bikes, fixing bikes and fitting accessories, but they also understand how to look after their customers.
What more could you ask for?
Desktop 240: Taking A Speccy
The article I wrote for the current issue of Desktop magazine was more controversial than most. It broaches the topic of design contests — a topic that is very polarizing.
One element that designers who abhor design contests as a concept neglect to factor into their criticism is how many designers use design contests as a lead generation activity.
Basically I use 99designs.com as a stepping-stone to get contacts. And for that it has honestly been just amazing. My income, literally just from winning contests, basically pays all my bills. Add to that all the follow-up work that comes in, and you’re rockin’. It’s as simple as that.
You can read the full transcript of the interview that I did with Richard Scott (complete with arguments in the comments for and against the topic, as expected) which formed the basis of my article in Desktop.
Tags: 99designs, contests, design, desktop, specBATBY-GOB-STOPL And Other Crazy Acronym Mnemonics
I’ve always loved acronym mnemonics.
I’ve always used them as memory aids — for everything from studying Japanese characters to remembering the arrangement of musical notes to packing my bag for the day before I leave the house.
A TV advertisement by metlink a few years back contained a jingle (and an acronym mnemonic) that I still remember to this day – BATBY-GOB-STOPL — Buying A Ticket Before You Get On Board Saves Time Or Problems Later. (Watch the video on YouTube.)
I don’t know whether the ad convinced me to think harder about fare evasion on public transport, but the combination of a catchy tune, a hilarious host bopping in her seat to the tune and a clever, if somewhat preposterous acronym, meant that the ad was successful at sticking in my head to this day.
Speaking of which, here’s the mnemonic that I run through every morning: KWITLGPC (pronounced Kwittle-gap-see): Keys, Wallet, IPod, Ticket, Lunch, Glasses, Phone, Clothes. It’s the checklist of everything I need to remember for the day (clothes is in there because I ride to work, so need to remember to pack a t-shirt to change into).
Any acronyms or other crazy mnemonics that you find useful and would like to share?
Tags: acronym, memory, mnemonics