Little extras can create memorable impression

If a 25th wedding anniversary is silver, then the 20th anniversary must be the Ford Windstar one.

Huh?

In 2002, my wife and I celebrated our 20th anniversary. So how’d we spend it? With caviar, candlelight and soft music?

What, are you kidding?

With three kids, romance is replaced by necessity — such as the need to shop for a new minivan. Hey, who needs romance when you’ve got the sensuality of automatic sliding doors and the family security package?

Now, what’s especially interesting about this Windstar is what happened after the sale.

Within two weeks, we received a letter from Ford stating: “Congratulations on your purchase. We thank you for your business and intend to make your ownership experience as special as the vehicle itself. Included with this letter is a set of two deluxe fold-out chairs, packaged for your convenience in an easy-to-carry tote.

“The new custom chairs will make any sporting event, camp outing, tailgate party, or leisure activity more pleasurable. We wish you many years of enjoyment both with your new Ford Windstar and unique custom chairs.”

Then, two weeks later, Ford sent us touch-up paint to remedy any accidental bumps and bruises. (For the van. Not us.)

Whoa. Cool stuff!

These are classic examples of “lagniappe.” Pronounced “lan-yap,” lagniappe is a Louisiana-French word meaning an unexpected extra.

Lagniappe is the baker’s dozen — the bonus donut, the fabulous freebie, the surprise gift, the unanticipated goodie.

It’s just a wee bit more.

The Acadians first brought this practice to New Orleans when they sold grain to their customers in a woolen cloth called “la nappe.”

To compensate for grain that spilled or stuck to the bottom, the Acadians threw in a little more without charge. They’d exclaim, “C’est pour la nappe.” (“This is for that caught in the sack.”)

In Nawlins, (a.k.a. New Orleans), businesspeople still offer lagniappe to deepen friendships, breed goodwill and generate repeat customers.

For impact, a lagniappe need not be expensive. Yet it should be an add-on that’s meaningful, memorable and purposeful.

Folks wax rhapsodic about value-added. Yet, all too often, it’s value-dreaded! For if the value added doesn’t improve, enhance or upgrade one’s life or business, it generates a ho-hum, who-cares shrug.

Recently, my wife ordered some leather goods that included free embossing, so she requested silver imprinting.

Instead, she got gold. When she called and said it wasn’t the right color, the owner exclaimed, “What’s the big deal? It’s free.” This entrepreneur didn’t get it. She mistakenly believed “free” entitled her to be wrong.

A lagniappe should create simple, almost monosyllabic responses, such as “Cool!” “Neat!” “Wow!” Which is exactly what I said when the Ford stuff kept landing on our doorstep. (Although I’m still waiting for a free Mustang convertible or replica Model-T.)

So, how can you leverage lagniappe for your business?

Here’s some stuff to consider:

1. What extra goodie – that’s part of your service or product mix – can you give with a sale, purchase, approval or agreement?

2. How will it create a sense of delight or appreciation?

3. Whom can you strategically partner with to offer their product or service as a lagniappe, because it complements your product or service?

For example, here’s what one of my kitchen and bath showroom clients did: When the design and remodeling team was creating havoc, dust and debris with the installation of new countertops, cabinets and appliances, they’d give homeowners free massages to eliminate stress.

4. What type of word-of-mouth praise will your lagniappe generate?

5. Is your lagniappe meaningless or meaningful?

6. Is it consumable or memorable? While extra donuts can be yummy, when they’re gone, they’re forgotten. However, Ford’s chairs, for example, have longevity. And whenever we plop down in them, they’re subtle reminders and reinforcement of the Ford experience. Try to offer something that’s purposeful with permanence.

7. What’s the risk and real cost of delivering no lagniappe?

Oh, by the way, as I’ve unfortunately and repeatedly discovered, it’s impossible to hop out of a minivan and look cool!