"Did you get a pen?" asked the lady in the logo-emblazoned polo shirt behind the display table.
"Hm? Oh.... I have several pens and you have my info...."
"Well, they're free. Give one to someone who didn't come."
As my wife and our two little daughters were ready to move on, I felt no desire to contradict and added another pen to our plastic bag full of brochures, business cards, fridge magnets, keychains, and gifts. These generous exhibitors from the baby and child expo... What would their ROI be from all this? I wondered.
This particular expo, at a cavernous Seattle convention center, had been in three cities before this one. The signs of wear and tear on the attitudes of some of booth owners were starting to show.
"Having a good show?" I asked at one booth with an array of baby hats, bibs, burp cloths, blankets.
"No," was the curt reply. Her products were some of the nicest in the show that day, with alternately earthtone and bright colors in minky fleece.
"Yeah, I heard someone at another table allow that the organizers had focused too much on booking exhibitors and not attracting attendees...."
She scowled, packing items into a box. I asked where they were from. "Minnesota," the smile-free reply. I thought of the Chinese proverb, "A person without a smiling face must not open a shop" (rings better in Mandarin). I felt bad for her, hoped she had a better day.
Just around the corner, a different experience awaited. The owner of a no-slip barrette company, Tristan, greeted us warmly, came out around her table to meet our kids. In a few minutes we were like old acquaintances: we heard about her kids, her friend with a child at Children's Hospital (my wife is an RN there), her passion for her company and what she's hoping to achieve in the community. She was the essence of an "indie," wanting kids to be free of the incessant marketing they're exposed to- such as make-up sold in a vending machine at an elementary school.
Before we left, I asked her how the show had been for her.
"Great!"
We met other people with similar passion, who stepped outside of their internal dialogue to engage with fellow human beings. Leslie, representing a single-anchor hammock crib, made our 9-month old light up with big smiles. There were other playful and energetic people at various booths. The enthusiasm they showed left a positive gut feeling towards their brand and their product.
Their challenges for leads were every bit as daunting as others we met who either put us off with aloofness, or didn't attempt to connect on an emotional level, pointing us to sign-up sheet lead cards and tschotchkes. But is it hard to imagine their success rate will be quite different, given the same set of circumstances?
It reminded me of a time in Sierra Leone, where something like a daily expo can be found in the dusty streets near the giant- bat-filled Cotton Tree, in the center of old Freetown. The batik blankets full of everything from socks to ironwood carvings, to bamboo pencil holders... the merchants I spent the most time with-- and bought from-- were the ones that didn't push, but "pulled" me with their friendliness, even when it wasn't the sweetest deal. They were the salt of the earth. Am I sucker for genuine kindness, or just a sucker? Well, I guarantee you there are more people like me, than people who will buy from a sour or bitter individual.
My tradeshow and infotainer inspiration, Joel Bauer, wrote: "Creating a sense of intimacy and rapport is the entire key to effective positioning for any potential professional/ personal long-term relationship."
That's filling a heart, not filling out a card or filling up a bag.