It's the price of a coffee. A Sunday newspaper. If you're lucky, a cake.
A lot of value can go into £1.80. A lot of pleasure can be derived from £1.80.
In many respects it's a trivial amount. It's not going to pay your mortgage. It's not going to fuel your car.
But it might brighten your day, widen your knowledge and understanding of international affairs, or perk you up after work.
So when would a service not be worth £1.80?
How about when you book tickets to the local cinema online, only to have to queue for 15 minutes to pick them up when you arrive, making you late for the film, disgruntled and frustrated that you planned ahead?
How about when you point out the folly of this, clearly ridiculous, process to the staff and are met with the response that booking online enabled me to get the seats I wanted?
Yes. I truly love sitting right at the back, where the lights never go out so it spoils the full enjoyment of the film. They were the only two seats left in the luxury section. There were, however, plenty of cheap seats available on the night. So his counter argument about securing a seat was, quite frankly, moot.
So too was his argument about buying online minimises the queue for the staff.
Ummmmm. Having just queued for 15 minutes, I beg to differ.
So the next time you create a service that commands an additional fee, give some thought as to whether you are also adding in additional value.
Expectations are attached to everything you sell.
Even if it is just for £1.80.
Next time, I'll just stand in the queue. I'll be no worse off.
