Need new customers? Look online
July 1, 2005 By LP Gas
No matter what the weather and how efficiently and effectively your propane business runs, nothing happens — and no money is made — without customers.
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No matter what the weather and how efficiently and effectively your propane business runs, nothing happens — and no money is made — without customers.
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Richard Smith, the Staten Island Ferry pilot who crashed his ferry into a dock and killed 11 people in October 2003, recently acknowledged that he passed out at the controls after taking tramadol (a pain relief medication) and Tylenol PM, two drugs with side effects that can include drowsiness.
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The passing of Labor Day signals the end of summer and the time to beef up your work force for the rigors of another busy winter heating season. You post your trusty "Now Hiring" or "Drivers Wanted" sign outside for passing traffic to see, and maybe drop a few bucks to run a classified ad in the local newspaper. It’s a simple routine that has worked for years.
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There is uneasiness in the voices of many long-time propane industry distributors these days when they discuss their role as the link between equipment manufacturers and propane retailers.
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As much as any of the previous four Habits of Highly Effective Propane Companies, habit number five is an individual skill that requires patience and experience to master.
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It seems these days that customers largely ignore or fail to appreciate the safety information we give them.
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This winter is shaping up to be the kind of cold season we in the propane industry always wish for. With bitter cold temperatures blanketing much of the country, this winter will undoubtedly prove a profitable one for marketers.
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Those looking to grow their businesses have many options when it comes to marketing strategies.
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Marketing is no longer just about what you say to the public about your product or service. It’s everything you say and do.
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I confess right here that I am old enough to remember seeing Burma Shave signs along the highway from the back of our Rambler station wagon. Boy, that hurt to admit. Every few hundred feet an ironic saying or poem would whiz by, line by line, until the last sign, the closer, would always read: Burma Shave.
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