Part 2: What I learned as a teenage pump jockey

This is a continuation of the story I was telling in last week’s post. If you haven’t read that, you can read it here first.

September came, as did the first day of classes, and I continued to work part-time with my dad at the gas station. Over the course of the next 5 years, we worked together to build a business we could be proud of. Along the way, I learned a lot about how not to judge people based on appearances and behaviours.

I remember one Sunday morning during my first year at Simon Fraser University (SFU), a guy came in with a shirt and tie and neatly combed hair. He begged me for a loan of $10 for gas so he could take his mom to church. How could I say no to taking your mom to church? He proceeded to get his gas, jump in his truck without a thank you and tear out of the lot, giving me his middle finger and shouting a racist slur as he sped away. 

1975 Chevy El Camino

Another time, I had a couple come in for the first time in their leathers, tattoos and souped-up El Camino. They asked for 25 litres and were disappointed to learn that we didn’t have the free glass promo that Petro-Can had at the time. I nervously apologized and tried my best to explain and make amends with extra attentive service. From that day forward, that couple came in to see me and buy a full tank of gas every week and never asked again for a free gift.

I learned through these experiences not to judge people by their appearances or their manners. Dishonest people are able to seem trustworthy and intimidating people at first blush can have huge hearts just beneath the surface.

Back at school, I was majoring in biology but experimented with a few business courses for my electives. I found I enjoyed marketing and organizational behaviour case studies way more than I did staring into microscopes and memorizing phyla. And everything that I read and learned in the business classes I could apply the next day. I changed my major.

I started developing visions to transform the business. We could tear the place down and build a beautiful modern oasis with a retail store. We could get new signage and lighting and get involved in the community. I imagined having articles written up about this incredible place that was a paradise in this marginalized part of town.

My dreams were soon dashed, however, when I found out from the city permits office that the property we were on was classified as a non-conforming zone. This meant that if we tore the place down, we would not be allowed to rebuild. In fact, if the building were to burn down in a fire, we would not be able to replace it. Essentially, there was nothing I could do to this dump to make it look better!

For a while, I was just going through the motions. Open the store, pump gas, go to class, study, go to bed, repeat. Until, in our organizational behaviour class, we started studying the theories of Tom Peters and Robert H. Waterman Jr. from their book In Search of Excellence. They presented real examples and stories of businesses that defied the odds by applying 8 themes built on McKinsey & Company’s 7-S framework. 

My perspective changed. The gas station became my lab to try out their theories about customer experience, leadership and innovation. And I started inventing some management beliefs of my own. Of course I made lots of mistakes along the way. I learned that not everything I discovered in textbooks could be applied directly.

I focused on doing the best I could within the context. We re-modeled to the extent we could, painted the place, and got new pumps, car wash equipment and signage. Mohawk head office helped. Most of the impact, though, came from creating incredible customer experiences. We trained our young staff to go above and beyond the call of duty, to learn every customer’s name and to have their usual purchase on the counter before they walked in the door.

We showed care and concern for every individual. If a mom wanted to complain about the son that didn’t visit enough, we listened. If a lawyer wanted to brag about the engine he was rebuilding in his classic Camaro, we were impressed. If a customer was worried about their kid developing confidence, we hired the kid. 

We became part of the community. Like a neighborhood pub, we became a regular stop for residents and commuters. Instead of worrying about the physical construct of the building, we focused on the soft experiences and the human connections. As a byproduct we tripled our fuel volume, saw double digit growth in our car wash revenue and generated in-store merchandise sales where there had been none previously. 

Last year, I read a great book called The Content Trap: A Strategist’s Guide to Digital Change. It’s a tome, I warn you. Essentially, it demonstrates how the most successful digital businesses of our time did not grow because of great content, i.e., the buildings they were in or the products they made. Instead, they grew because they figured out a way to create meaningful connections – with people’s lives, between people or with other products and services that people already loved. I really enjoyed the book but, as I reflect now, I actually learned that lesson in the late 80s at an old gas station in New Westminster.

I often think about how I felt that first day I saw the gas station. It reminds me that sometimes the most unappealing opportunities turn out to be the ones we learn from the most. I ended up learning so much about business, people, change management, customer service and leadership. All lessons that I have drawn upon throughout my career.

What job experience has surprised you the most in the lessons that it taught you? Let me know by commenting below or send me an email at shakeel@oceanbluestrategic.com.

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