Customer Relationship Management

A Marketing Memoirette….

Customer Relationship Management at Harry's

Paul Peterman, a 210-lb ex-wrestler was nasty drunk. In brag overdrive he chronicled his big wins in Berlin of 20 years ago. With guttural pleasure he told how with his famous body slam he once broke an opponent's back. To emphasize the feat, he raised both arms high overhead and slammed his huge fists on the bar so hard everyone's glass jumped and sloshed suds.

The other regulars ---for Paul was a regular --- tried to slide away from him. But he stalked along the stand-up bar, put his face in the face of each nervous sipper, and challenged him.

My dad, Harry---owner; bartender; raconteur; and bouncer--- tried a touch of reason on the unreasonable man. When it failed he retired Paul's glass for the evening and told him to go home and sleep it off.

The "Who's gonna make me-I am" exchange that followed led to the dirt parking lot. There under the eerie red glow of a neon sign that shouted BEER the two faced off in the circle formed by instant fight fans.

Paul outweighed Harry by a good fifty pounds and was a full head taller. Bent in wrestler's stance Paul bounced lightly on his toes. As he stalked for his catch-grab there was no sign he was loaded.

Harry backed. Paul grunted and lunged. Then Harry with every ounce of his body concentrated into a perfectly timed big-sweep round-house punch--- nailed Paul square on the left temple. Paul dropped, tried to get up, lurched and crawled through a gap the crowd danced for his path, and then sprawled on his back under a lilac bush at the edge of the lot.

Skeeter, a regular who worked as a practical nurse, checked Paul for signs of life. She found a strong pulse and a powerful snore.

There was a lot of congratulatory back slapping (the high-five and fanny slap had not yet been invented), and the one-punch event made Harry a hero. Back inside, he set up a round "on the house." Then he chuckled and said: "Just goes to show, the customer isn't always right."

It was a pleasant summer night and as customers left for the evening they stopped by to peek under the lilac to make sure Paul was still alive. At 2:00 am, Harry locked up, went back to his house behind the bar, picked up a light blanket, came back and draped it over Paul.

The next morning Harry and Paul had coffee together. There was no discussion about the night before. Even years later, though the event was often retold, it was never retold when Paul was on hand.

Paul remained a loyal customer for many years. He never got out of line again and became an ex-officio peace keeper when anyone got a little too rowdy.

This happened in 1935 when Harry still sold beer for a nickel a glass. So Paul's customer lifetime value probably never amounted to more than a few bucks a week. But he was one of many such customers during The Great Depression, and Harry cherished them all.