The main thing that I like to keep in mind when traveling with clients is attention span. When traveling on a plane, a client's years with the service provider (z) will give you a simple guideline for a client's attention span in minutes.
I did the math on this one. Feel free to skip it if you dare to skip life changing tips.
Multiply the hours in the airplane by 60 and you have (m), the total number of minutes in the flight. Take the minutes in flight and divide by (z), and you have (x), the number of activities and diversions needed to prepare for the trip (on the actual plane). For instance, when I use this to estimate the number of activities and diversions needed on 5 hour flight for my three clients, the math looks like this:
60(hours)=m
m=total minutes in flight
60 x 5=300 minutes in flight
m=300
m/z=x
300/8= approximately 37
300/5= 60
300/3=100
My client of 8 years (the Blonde) will need approximately 37 diversions and activities. The Ginger will need about 60; and the brunette will need somewhere near 100. This method of estimation is admittedly simplistic, but gives a fairly realistic idea of what the service provider is in for should prepare for. Some diversions, of course, can be used more than once. The exciting part of air travel is that there is no way to predict which activities will interest the client!
Whee!
(Tablets and smartphones make these trips much easier. The only drawback is the drool that leaks from clients' mouths after the second hour.)
Although simple and imperfect, the aforementioned system also helps keeps my expectations low, thereby avoiding the dreaded but unavoidable surprise explosion (surplosion): The beta version for this equation is: A + B + Y(X)= Z
A is instruction provided to the client. B is experience with said client. Y is the setting or environment. X is the Public (either public outside your controlled environment, or guests in a private setting). Z is your expected outcome, which is completely unpredictable.
See what I did there?
See what I did there?
There comes a time in every service provider's term of service when he or she feels they've laid a solid groundwork: a foundation whereon if men (humankind, if you will) build they cannot fall. This would be the point where you have enough experience with a client that you have reason to believe that they will behave in a certain way. For example: you may have eaten dinner with, and given enough instruction to a client to expect them to eat with a fork and a knife when they are seated at a table set with a knife and fork, instead of poking themselves in the eye. Depending upon the client, this groundwork may take years, or decades. This groundwork is equal to A and B in our equation.
The next part of the equation (Y) is the environment in which you feel reasonably comfortable. As a service provider, it is my job to prepare my clients for any and all environments they might encounter, within reason. This means lots and lots of talking and/or forays out of you and your client's collective comfort zone: Home, beach, olympic parking lot in China… The service provider is responsible for giving sufficient background and instruction to the client that he or she has a reasonable idea of how to behave. For our purposes, we will say the environment is the traditional milieu for dining at the home office: the dinner table.
X is John Q. Public. This may be a neighbor dropping off a loaf of zucchini bread, the crowd at Disneyland, or your superiors. (Superiors are often called grandparents, but sometimes adopt less traditional nomenclature; some prefer to be be called by their given name. This can contribute to a false sense of equality between client, service provider and superior.) In this scenario, let's introduce a neighbor into our equation. Your sweet, poofy-haired neighbor who is generous with baked goods, and somehow oversalts everything.
The whole point of the equation is to prepare you for the inevitable surplosion. A surplosion could be verbal or physical. Some examples of a verbal surprise could include a client of 5 years saying something terrible to a perfectly nice, contributing member of society who is minding their own business. Something like, "What happened to your face?" "Why are you so fat?" or, "You're going to hell because you drink coffee."
See how this works?
A + B + Y(X)= Z
Now we plug in our variables.
Now we plug in our variables.
(years of instruction on acceptable behavior) + (sustained track record of acceptable behavior) + (the dinner table)(neighbor entering immediate vicinity)= (surplosion)
For verbal surplosions, a service provider should develop a means of non-verbally communicating distain, lest the client continue said surplosion. If a client were to ask the innocent neighbor what the matter was with his or her face, the service provider might widen his or her eyes as much as possible and turn toward the client stiffly, maintaining eye contact until the client notices the exaggerated position. This is an updated technique. Years ago, of course, the accepted technique for dealing with a verbal surplosion would likely take the form of a slap upside the head of the offending client.
Physical surprises are often more exciting. Examples of a physical surprise might include: a client who empties the contents of his or her stomach explosively and unexpectedly during an important meeting, a client who is suddenly morally opposed to wearing any kind of clothing, or a client who screams for an extended period for no apparent reason. I include screaming in the physical surprise category because a screaming client becomes a public nuisance, and a remedy to a public nuisance necessitates a physical change. In theory, this might not make sense, but if you have ever had a client lose control in a public place, you quickly realize how physical it can get. It's like trying to gather up a couple of goats calmly and gently (almost impossible).
