"Those pancakes had better be worth it," I thought as I left home at 8 a.m. on Saturday morning to get breakfast at the maple farm in Shelburne, MA. A friend had convinced me and three other students that the Davenport Restaurant offered the most delicious, fresh breakfast nearby.
My friend, who is a deal hunter by nature and an opinion leader among fellow students, has been asking us to visit Davenport since the beginning of last week. She told us the restaurant offers the best pancakes and home-made maple syrup. It was enveloped by trees and nearby there were cows.
Yesterday, she followed up on her suggestion and organized the trip. She set up a time, designated a driver for the two-hour drive to the farm and back, and checked the restaurant's open hours on their Facebook fan page. But, most importantly, she got four people really pumped up about this breakfast.
For all these things that my friend did for Davenport, companies hire salespeople. She pitched a product in a personalized way, explained it to us multiple times and followed up on her suggestion. She made all the arrangements for us to try the product. She did it genuinely and with passion because she was confident we would love the place.
And we did. As soon as we set foot there, we were happy customers. We saw how maple syrup was produced, browsed through the local brochures pasted on the walls and took photos. Then, we ordered huge cups of coffee, Finnish pancakes and large chocolate chip pancakes. Upon leaving, as curious 20-somethings, we explored the farm and found the cows. On our way back in the car, we talked about how great the place was.
Thanks to my friend, Davenport just attracted four loyal customers. As soon as we got back on campus, we shared with other friends about our pleasant experiences at the farm. I, for instance, tweeted about it, added the restaurant as a tip on foursquare and uploaded some photos of it on Picasa.
This, my friends, is evangelism marketing in action.