I don’t know about you, but referrals are the life blood of my business. We’re no longer in a business environment based on cold calls made from smoky cubicles or suitcase-clad pavement pounders. It’s web-based and more importantly, endorsement-based marketing that keep new clients and customers wanting what we have.
While it might seem intuitive to some, others are epic fucktards about the etiquette of the referral process. Snarketing entries are usually reserved for visual representations of poor marketing, this installment is a little Miss Manners for the Referral Impaired.
How to Not be a Fucktard in the Referral Process
- When making a referral to someone, it would be nice if the party receiving the referral hit you up with a “Yo – thanks!” They do not OWE you anything. They do not OWE you a reciprocal referral. They do not OWE you lunch. Hell, they don’t even OWE you thanks. Making a referral involves grabbing Karma by the balls. What comes around goes around.
- Understand the protocol of the referral. If you’re referring a client to a strategic partner, outline how the relationship will flow. Will YOU manage the relationship? Is it an “open white label” situation? Whose responsibility is billing? Be clear.
- If someone gives you a referral to a strategic partner, it’s incredibly douchy to go around the person who referred you and ask this new person if you can “deal with them directly.” What you’re saying is, “Wow – this is awesome and I’m glad to have met this person! I’d sure love to ass rape the person who referred me by seeing if I can cut them out of the deal! YEAH!”
- If you ever find a strategic partner with whom you have a referral arrangement cutting you out of the deal or working some side magic/discount pricing on their own, here’s the easiest way to deal:
- Let them know that YOU know what they’ve done.
- Hire a shady PI to take compromising pictures of that person with a hooker.
- Never do business with them again.
- Kicking in the nuts/clam is optional (yet highly rewarding).
- Karma is a cold hearted bitch, and if you doubt me, go ahead and indulge in any of the asshattery outlined above. 98 pigeons will shit on your freshly-washed car inside of 48 hours.
Here endeth the snark.