Written by Jon van Wyk
When I was twelve years old, I found myself staring longingly at the shiny new bike in the store window. It had everything: bright red paint, sleek tires, and a shiny chrome bell that sounded like success. Unfortunately, the single coin rattling around in my piggy bank did not encourage much hope for such an acquisition, and my parents had a strict “no chores, no bike” policy.
As a result of this conundrum, I came up with a plan: I would venture forth and start my very own lawn mowing business.
Rummaging through the garage, I found a rusty old push mower that my dad deemed “vintage,” and determinedly planned a foray into my neighbourhood, ready to conquer the vast wilderness of lawns belonging to unsuspecting neighbours in our locale.
The very next day, I donned a worn straw hat, which flopped over my eyes, and set out with a hand-painted sign that read “Lawn Mowing—$10.” I felt like a businessman—at least until I realised I had no idea how to push a mower let alone get the darned thing running.
Mrs Rimmer, who lived 3 doors down, was my first customer. She watched kindly as I yanked repeatedly on the starter cord coaxing the old engine into life, clapping her hands with delight.
The job took twice as long as it should have, and by the time I had finished, the lawn was full of half mown tufts of grass and grass clippings covered her verandah. Nevertheless, Mrs Rimmer was ecstatic that I had stopped by, presenting me with a cold lemonade and pressing a generous tip into my hand. At that point she became a VIP customer as I felt a surge of pride that I had begun the journey to bike ownership so successfully.
The next morning – Saturday, our home phone rang at exactly 8am. “Is that the lawn boy?” A querulous voice inquired. It was Mrs Hall, a neighbour from a block down the road. “I’m a friend of Anne Rimmer’s. Can you mow my lawn?”
That call signalled the beginning of my summer lawn mowing empire. It turned out that my less than successful but honest service had been recommended by Mrs Rimmer to everyone she knew and the rest was history.
Looking back, I understood how valuable the lessons I learned along the way were. First and foremost, I began to understand the importance of negotiating with customers. “$10 for mowing your lawn is alright!” I’d say glibly, and then wish that they would increase their offer. After a while I realised I could offer discounts for repeat business, and I began to notice that my clients would often pay me to do extra jobs as well if I was reliable and trustworthy.
By the summer’s end, I had earned enough for my dream bike—and then some! More importantly, I learned not just about mowing lawns, but also about commitment, honest business practices and the importance of customer service.
It was a momentous day when I rode my new bike to Mrs Rimmer’s house to show it off. “It’s a fine bicycle young man,” she said with a broad smile, handing me an extra large glass of lemonade. “Go and enjoy yourself!,” she called out as I rode off proudly. “By the way, I have a friend who might need their lawn done next week!”
“Ok!” I exclaimed, waving whilst making a mental note to hand over the reins of my business to my brother for the rest of the summer, having already decided to enjoy my new two-wheeled freedom in the knowledge that I had just learned my final lesson in business – knowing when to take a holiday.