Trades industry news, updated weekly
Business Tips

Your Best Customers Are Loyal to You — Not Your Business

Joe WhittakerJoe Whittaker··11 min read

Your Best Customers Are Loyal to You — Not Your Business

March 2020. Dad's in the hospital. Knee replacement that went sideways. I'm at a card table in my garage, Hank on my arm, trying to run dispatch for a shop I inherited on a handshake two months earlier. And I'm realizing I have no idea who half our customers are.

Not because the jobs weren't done. Thirty-six years of jobs, done. But who those people were, how Mike knew them, what their house was like, what they'd called about before — that lived in one place. My dad's head. And my dad's phone wasn't getting answered.

If your shop looks anything like mine did, you've got the same problem. You just haven't found out yet.


The Relationship Is in Your Head, Not Your Business

Customer loyalty might not belong to your business at all.

When my dad built Whittaker Plumbing & Drain from 1984 to 2019, he built something real. Three trucks, a reputation in Parma, a customer base that called year after year. But they weren't loyal to the number on the truck. They were loyal to Mike. Mike who remembered your wife's name. Mike who showed up at 6 AM because you had a baby and a broken water heater. Mike who'd been coming to your house since Reagan was president.

That's genuinely something. It also nearly killed the shop the second Mike stopped answering his phone.

When I took over in January 2020, I thought I was inheriting a customer base. What I was actually inheriting was a list of people who liked my dad. When those customers called Mike's cell and got voicemail for six weeks, a chunk of them stopped. Found somebody else. Never called the shop line — because they didn't think of the shop line as their plumber's number. They thought of Mike's cell as their plumber's number.

The revenue I lost was real. I didn't even know those accounts existed until they were already gone.


What "Loyal Customer" Actually Means

From 2012 to 2018 I worked at Crestwood Plumbing out of Cleveland. Thirty trucks. Proper dispatch, account managers, service history going back years in an actual system. When a tech left — and techs leave — the customer didn't leave with him. The relationship was with the business. The next tech showed up knowing the house, knowing that the lady on Fairview had a finicky pressure regulator and preferred morning appointments. Nobody rebuilt from zero.

That's what a real customer account looks like. Not a guy who likes you — an account that knows your shop.

Mike's model was the opposite, and I say this with full love for my dad. He knew everything, remembered everything, and when he was unavailable the business knew nothing, because the business was Mike. One phone number. His.

I'm still doing some version of this wrong. I'm in a truck two days a week when I oughta be in the office. Every service call I personally run is another customer relationship that gets logged in my head instead of Jobber. Every time a customer says "I always ask for Joe" — that's supposed to be a compliment. Instead I feel a little sick. Because I know what that means when I'm the one in the hospital.

If your top five customers would walk when you walk, you don't have accounts. You have friendships. Friendships don't transfer when you sell.


The Contrarian Take: Nextdoor Is Where Your Real Loyalty Problem Lives

Google matters more than most shop owners think. Yelp matters less. Nextdoor matters more than both of them combined in a neighborhood like Parma, and almost nobody's talking about it.

Here's the problem with that.

When somebody on my street posts "need a good plumber" and three neighbors say "Joe at Whittaker did our whole sewer last spring," that's a warm lead. I love it. But notice what they said. Not "Whittaker Plumbing." Joe. They're recommending me, not my shop. If I sell tomorrow, that Nextdoor thread from last October still has my name on it. The new owner gets calls from people expecting me to show up.

Google reviews are attached to the business listing. They travel with the sale. A buyer can read them, see the pattern, trust them. Nextdoor recommendations are attached to my name, my face, my history in this neighborhood. They don't transfer. They just decay.

Running your whole referral base on neighborhood word-of-mouth, with nothing documented and nothing attached to the business itself — you're gonna feel that eventually. When it breaks, it breaks fast.


The Accounts That Died When Mike's Phone Went Quiet

Spring 2020. Here's something I've never fully written down until now.

Mike had customers who had his personal cell from years back and just kept using it. Not the shop line. Not the number on the truck. Mike's cell. Some of them had been calling that number for fifteen, sixteen years. When Mike went into the hospital, those calls hit voicemail. He was in no shape to answer for six weeks. Some of those customers found somebody else and moved on. A few called the shop eventually. A few just didn't.

I was at the card table, Hank on my arm, trying to pull jobs from a system that had maybe forty percent of what it should've had, realizing I couldn't call these people back because I didn't know they existed. No record. No history. No way to say hey, Mike's recovering, we've still got you.

Some of those customers I've since gotten back. Some I haven't. Either way I had to re-earn them from scratch. Whatever goodwill Mike had built — it had never belonged to the business. When I tried to claim it, it wasn't there.


How to Get the Relationship Out of Your Head and Into the Shop

We've been on Jobber since 2019. Becca picked it, Becca uses it, Becca runs it better than I do — that's why it works. Whatever system your CSR doesn't fight every day is the right system. Full stop.

But here's what I want to say about any system, Jobber or otherwise: the customer notes field exists. Most shops don't use it.

Right now, the file for a customer we've had four years has her address, every job we've done, what we charged, what her sewer line looks like on camera, and a note that says she has an oak tree in the side yard she will not let us touch under any circumstances. New tech goes out there, he knows before he knocks. Becca knows. If I sell this shop tomorrow, the buyer knows.

That's what a business is supposed to hold. Not my head, not Becca's head — the system.

I've said a good CSR is worth two trucks. I mean it literally. Becca knowing a customer's name when she picks up, knowing they pay slow but always pay, knowing their cleanout is off the back patio and not the side yard — that's worth more than another van in the driveway. But only if it's in the software. Because Becca's not gonna work here forever either. And if it's not written down, it walks out with her.

The rule: if it's not in Jobber, it doesn't exist.


What to Do Before You Lose Another One

Pull your recent jobs — last year, last two years, whatever you've got — and find your top customers by revenue. For each one, write a short paragraph. Who referred them. How they like to be contacted. What the property's quirks are. What was done last time and what got talked about. If you can do it from memory, good — that means you know it. The point is to get it out of your memory and into the file.

If you've got customers calling your personal cell for service work, text them or send a postcard and tell them the shop number is the right number going forward. "Hey, just wanted to make sure you've got the best number for us — it's [shop number], and whoever picks up will take care of you." Some of them will feel a little weird about it. Do it anyway. Because the first time you're out for a week, you want those calls landing somewhere they get answered.

And if you're still the only one who knows a customer's name when they call — that's not loyalty. That's a problem you haven't paid for yet. Mike didn't know. I didn't know either, until I was watching it happen.


FAQ

If I've been in business 20 years and all my customers know me personally, is it actually possible to move those relationships to the business before I sell?

Yeah, but it takes longer than you think, and you've gotta start before you're ready to sell. Document everything. Put a second point of contact between the customer and you — a CSR, an office manager, a trusted tech. Train your customers over time to call the shop number instead of your cell. A customer who's known you personally for fifteen years isn't gonna shift in six months. But you can make it gradual. And a buyer looking at documented accounts with real job history will pay more for them than for a promise that your customers might stick around.

How do I tell a longtime customer to stop calling my cell without it feeling like a brush-off?

Tell them the shop number means faster help. That's actually true. "We've grown enough that I want to make sure you're always getting a fast answer — the shop line gets covered even when I'm on a job." I had a customer — sweet lady, been calling my cell for three years — who thanked me for telling her. She'd been nervous about bothering me directly. Most people feel better about having the right number. If they don't, the relationship will survive the redirect anyway.

What should actually be in a customer file for it to be useful to somebody who didn't build the relationship?

Full contact info, how they found you, complete job history with notes on what was done and what got discussed, property quirks — old pipe material, access issues, tree root situations, whatever — payment history, and anything personal that matters to the call. New employee shouldn't have to guess. New owner should be able to read the file and know the customer before he picks up the phone.

I'm a one-truck shop. Does this apply to me yet?

It applies more to you right now than to anyone. You're the whole business. If you're out three weeks with a broken arm, every customer relationship you have is sitting in your phone and your memory, going unanswered. When you're small the fix is cheap — a basic CRM, even a spreadsheet, and a habit of writing things down. When you're at five trucks it's expensive and slow. Start now.

When I sell, can I put a dollar value on customer relationships — and how do buyers actually look at that?

Buyers pay for documented, recurring revenue attached to the business. They don't pay full price for "my customers love me." What they look at: how many customers are repeat, how long they've been around, whether they call the business number or your cell, whether there's a real paper trail. A customer who calls your shop, has five years of jobs on file, and has never met you personally — that's worth money. A customer who's been calling your cell for twelve years and might or might not follow a new owner is a coin flip. Document them now while you still can.

How do I tell the difference between a customer loyal to my business and one loyal to me?

Send a different tech. If they call back happy, the relationship is with the shop. If they call you directly to ask why you didn't come — that relationship is personal. Personal loyalty is real and it's earned. I'm not saying it's worthless. I'm saying it doesn't transfer. Business loyalty looks like: they call the shop number, they don't care which tech shows up as long as the work gets done right, and when they refer you they say Whittaker, not Joe. Know which one you've got. They're not the same thing.

Enjoyed this article?

Get articles like this in your inbox every Monday. Free, no spam.

More from The Backcharge