One beautiful day, two years ago, I decided to be a person of dialogue and exchange. I came up with the idea: since I have a website to make, and someone has a boiler to replace – maybe we can connect the two. A bit of barter magic.
And then came the ideal candidate – a fellow countryman, a plumber, referred to me. A supposed expert, at least according to his own stories. We met, we talked. I presented my proposal: I’ll make you a proper website, responsive, optimized, everything ready to go, and you’ll replace my boiler, legally, with a certificate, with a smile. Simple, transparent.
And then I heard laughter. A genuine, deep laugh. You know, the kind of laugh that suggests you’ve just said something so absurd, as if you had asked for free holidays in Mallorca in exchange for a calendar with kittens on it.
“A website? Me? Why would I need a website? I get clients by word of mouth. I don’t even have Facebook. And you think I need something like that?”
I dropped the topic. I thought: okay, not everyone understands the value of visibility online. Especially if they have word-of-mouth recommendations and an uncle who embroiders logos on jackets. And then came his price. For a service that – as it turned out later – another company did for me cheaper, faster, and most importantly, without unnecessary stories.
That one needed five days and two people. From the person who referred him to me, I then heard that the owner was a top-class professional, but the assistant… well, it seemed that his biggest teacher was YouTube. In the end, I paid through the nose, and I had the feeling I was sponsoring internal training in his family.
One Year Later…
A year goes by. A phone call. I get a number I don’t recognize. I pick up.
– Hi, it’s the plumber… Do you remember me? I’ve got something to discuss.
And I knew right away. He didn’t hide it – he said directly: I need a website. Fewer clients, younger people aren’t calling, everyone asks where they can see my work. Times have changed.
But the offer was no longer valid. Because a boiler is not something you replace every day. Prices change too. And the market doesn’t wait.
What’s the moral of this story?
Laugh, laugh, but have a website. Because before someone recommends you, people will still check you out. And if they only find your number on a piece of paper in a shop and a picture from a decade ago on Google Street View, that might not be enough.
And you know what? Even though I refused back then, it wasn’t out of spite. The world has changed – so have I. Time, knowledge, experience – all these things have value now. But does that mean I won’t help? No. I’ll help – but on different terms, without jokes and underestimating.
Because even if someone laughed once, everyone has the right to reflect and start fresh. And I always respect those who can come back and say: “Okay, you were right.”