You Don't See Your Park Anymore

 One of the first things that happens when I walk a park with an operator is that I notice things they don't.

That's not because I'm some brilliant consultant with superhuman observational skills. I just haven't walked past the same problem 100 times that week.

Operators develop blinders. It's inevitable. The pallet next to the dumpster has been there so long it's become part of the scenery. The temporary sign taped to the front door has been there for six weeks. There's clutter behind the front desk. A piece of padding is torn.

Eventually, those things become background noise.

Your guests don't have that problem. They're seeing your building with fresh eyes.

That's why when I'm evaluating an operation, I don't start in the owner's office.

I start in the parking lot.

How does the exterior look? Is the signage clean? Is the entrance obvious? Is there trash in the parking lot? Is the dumpster overflowing?

The guest experience doesn't start when someone buys a ticket. It starts when they arrive.

What Does "Experience" Actually Mean?

Every operator in our industry likes to say some version of, "We're not selling tickets. We're selling an experience."

Great.

What's an experience?

Usually I get answers like fun, memories, excitement or guest service. Those aren't bad answers, but they're difficult to manage.

I prefer to make it tangible:

Sight. Touch. Hearing. Smell. Taste.

What does the guest see? Is the building clean? Is the front desk organized? Are lights burned out? Do the attractions look maintained?

What do they touch? Are tables sticky? Are railings grimy? Is the building comfortable? A guest isn't going to consciously think, "This table has an unacceptable level of residual syrup." They're just going to think the place feels gross.

Then listen. Is the music creating energy, or is it so loud that Mom can't talk to the front desk? Are employees interacting with guests? Does the park sound energetic or chaotic?

Smell might be the easiest thing for an operator to become blind to. Every trampoline park operator knows exactly what I mean when I ask, "Does your park smell like a trampoline park?"

You might genuinely not smell it anymore.

Your guest does.

Finally, taste. We spend millions building entertainment venues and then sometimes serve terrible food. Order your own food the way a guest does on a busy Saturday. How long did it take? Was it hot? Did it look good?

Would you be happy if you paid what you're charging for it?

That's an experience. It's not an abstract mission statement. It's what the guest is seeing, touching, hearing, smelling and tasting while they're in your building.

Stop Making It Hard to Give You Money

Once I'm through the doors, I want to see how difficult you've made it for me to become a customer.

We spend an incredible amount of money getting people into our buildings through advertising, social media, SEO and promotions. The guest finally shows up with a credit card in hand.

Get out of their way.

Our admission structure is intentionally simple. The guest essentially answers two questions: How long do you want to stay—1.5 hours or all day? And when are you coming—weekday or weekend?

I'm not saying every FEC should copy our pricing. The principle is that your guest shouldn't have to learn your business before they're allowed to give you money.

We understand our pricing because we live inside it. The first-time guest doesn't, and they're often trying to figure it out while three excited kids are asking when they can go play.

Online, I count clicks.

At the front desk, I count questions.

Every "Wait, what's the difference between those two?" is useful data.

The same principle applies after the purchase. At our parks, there's a natural progression:

1.5-Hour Admission → All-Day Admission → Membership

If you're having fun and want to stay, upgrade. If you're having enough fun that you know you're coming back, upgrade again.

We also let guests make those upgrades at the Front Desk, Party Desk or Concessions. If someone is standing at Concessions trying to give me more money, why would I send them across the building to stand in another line?

Don't make the guest navigate your org chart.

They see one company. Make it easy to say yes.

We Give Our Employees a $3 Million House Party

Once I'm inside, I'm watching the employees.

I like to ask operators what separates a good house party from a bad one.

Usually, it's the vibes.

The music matters. The snacks matter. The entertainment matters. But ultimately, it's the people.

That's essentially what we're doing in an FEC. We've given our employees a $3 million house to throw a party in.

We provide the music, the snacks and the entertainment.

They bring the vibes.

So I want to see employees having fun. Not screwing around or ignoring guests. Having fun while doing their jobs.

Are they smiling? Are they interacting with kids? Do they look like they want to be there?

Energy is contagious. If every employee looks miserable and stands silently at their assigned position, I don't care how expensive the attractions are.

The park feels dead.

Your competitor can buy the same trampoline, climbing wall or arcade game.

They can't buy your culture.

Is the Attraction Bad, or Is the Execution Bad?

I use a pretty simple philosophy when looking at attractions:

Everything in your building either makes you money or costs you money.

An attraction that's open, maintained and being enjoyed contributes to the experience you sold. An attraction that's broken, decrepit, out of order or unnecessarily closed costs you money.

Operators see the repair quote and think, "That's going to cost $4,000 to fix."

My question is:

What's it costing you not to fix it?

There's another version of this problem. You go to IAAPA, see something incredible, spend a lot of money on it, install it and...

Crickets.

Nobody uses it.

Maybe it was a bad investment. But first ask: Is it the attraction, or is it the execution?

A climbing tower can look fantastic on paper until you experience the operational reality of helping kids in and out of harnesses all day. If the process is cumbersome enough, it may actually be easier for employees to keep the attraction closed than operate it.

Maybe guests don't understand it. Maybe they don't know it's included. Maybe the throughput is terrible. Maybe the operating process is the problem.

Or maybe the attraction really does suck.

Diagnose it first.

You've already spent the money. Now your job is to find value where value doesn't currently exist.

We're the Experts

Bathrooms are another great diagnostic tool, and my first question isn't whether they're clean.

It's whether I can find them.

I have a potty-training 2.5-year-old. When he tells me he needs to pee, he's not giving me a helpful ten-minute warning.

He needs to pee now.

If your employees answer "Where's the bathroom?" 100 times every Saturday, maybe your guests aren't bad at following directions.

Maybe your signage is bad.

Once I find the bathroom, of course I care whether it's clean and stocked. But some of the smallest operational decisions can create an outsized guest experience.

We keep a small supply of diapers and wipes in our family restrooms. It costs us maybe $50–$100 a month.

I've lost count of how many parents have thanked us because they forgot a diaper and we saved their afternoon.

We use the same thinking with birthday parties. Our party hosts carry birthday candles and lighters in their aprons.

Picture the moment. The lights are down. The cake is out. The kids are gathered around. Parents have their phones pointed at the birthday kid.

Then Dad realizes he forgot the lighter.

There's a gas station nearby. Dad can leave while everybody waits.

Or our party host reaches into their apron and says, "I've got one."

For about 30 seconds, that $1 lighter might be the most valuable object in the entire $3 million building.

That's hospitality.

And we're supposed to be better at anticipating these situations than our guests are.

A parent might host birthday parties at venues like ours from kindergarten through middle school. Call it eight parties over their child's entire childhood.

We can host 50 parties on one Saturday. We're the experts.

We know people forget lighters. We know they'll need boxes for leftover pizza. We know parents arrive carrying cake, presents, balloons and decorations.

If we've solved the same guest problem hundreds of times, eventually it shouldn't be a problem anymore.

That's why we stock diapers. It's why party hosts carry lighters. It's why we have wagons for party supplies.

Great hospitality is anticipating the little problems your guests are going to have and solving them before they become their problems.

Borrow Someone Else's Eyes

You can't completely eliminate operational blindness, but simply knowing it exists helps.

We're fortunate to operate multiple parks, so we rotate our GM meetings between locations and walk the park together. Managers from another location see things the people working there every day have stopped noticing.

But you don't need multiple locations.

Use your newest employees.

Ask them what seemed weird when they started. What was confusing? What didn't make sense? What do guests constantly ask them about?

Then don't punish them for answering honestly.

If you ask a 16-year-old what they think is stupid about your operation and then spend ten minutes explaining why they're wrong, congratulations.

They'll never tell you again.

Fresh eyes are valuable because they haven't gotten used to your problems yet.

At the same time, don't analyze yourself into inaction.

Operators frequently obsess over small details while missing the big picture. Should the bathroom soap smell like lavender or citrus?

I don't care.

Is there soap in the dispenser?

That's what the guest cares about.

Fix Things in the Right Order

Once you start seeing your operation again, you'll probably find 30 things you want to fix.

We prioritize them using four operating principles:

Safety. Guest Service. Experience. Efficiency.

In that order.

Safety, security and sanitation come first. They're non-negotiable.

Then Guest Service. What's creating friction for the people paying us?

Then the Experience. Are the attractions open? Does the park feel energetic? Is the product we're delivering actually the product we promised?

Finally, Efficiency.

Efficiency matters. We're running businesses, and they need to be financially healthy.

But there's a reason efficiency is fourth.

Saving labor by unnecessarily closing an attraction guests paid to use isn't efficiency. Saving $50 a month by removing diapers from the family restroom isn't efficiency.

Cost cutting that damages the product isn't efficiency.

Real efficiency supports everything above it.

So the next time you go to work, don't pull into your usual spot, enter through the employee door and walk directly to your office.

Park where your guests park.

Look at the exterior. Find the entrance. Walk through the front doors. Look around. Listen. Smell the building. Buy something. Find the bathroom. Watch your employees. Look at the attractions. Order the food.

Try to experience your business without all the knowledge you've accumulated from working there every day.

You won't be able to completely.

But you'll start seeing things again.

And every time you catch yourself looking at something and thinking, "Oh yeah, we've been meaning to fix that..."

Remember:

You've walked past it 100 times. Your guest hasn't.