I spend my working life trying to create revenue for businesses. In a roundabout way, I guess that's what most of us do in the private sector, but being in sales and marketing, I'm definitely on the frontline. So it's always something of a novelty when I'm the customer, out to spend my hard-earned commission on a service. That's right; I have dirty windows and I need them cleaned. I need a professional window cleaner.
So I do what everyone does. I go on Google. Tap tap tap, "window cleaner". Tap tap tap, "undisclosed location". Tap tap tap. Bingo. Five sponsored listings, eight "local" business pages and a billion search results.
Now, with my digital marketer hat on, I'm working under a foolish assumption. Getting the top spot on Google takes a considerable amount of effort on the part of aggressive SEO, reviews and digital wizardry. If any company even comes close to the top, and you don't live in the arse-end of nowhere, then they must be reasonably established and professional. And on that assumption I was correct. In fact, this company was too established.
Up until this point, it had never occurred to me that window cleaning could be monopolised. I chose this particular company because the logo and website were professional and, most importantly, I could book online. I like this. Most people do. Talking to people is icky and partly why I'm the Digital Marketing Manager at Hayward Miller and not the Telemarketing Manager. I save all my chat for Zooms and Teams calls where I can talk in the comfort of that warm blurry blanket that clips on the edge of my hair.[LH1]
So I fill in the options on the booking page, argue with my partner about whether the tiny window in the front door counts as a window, decide I have eight windows(even though I've been firmly told "we have nine"), and off to the payment section I go. £28! I remember when my dad used to leave a few quid in a Chinese container on the back garden step. How times have changed. Blame Starmer or Boris depending on your political affliction. In fact, blame Truss. It was definitely Truss.
But this is besides the point. I was willing to pay £28 just to get my windows cleaned for the convenience of a top search result and an online booking form. I didn't have to liaise with the window cleaning man or woman, and I didn't have to getup a ladder. I might even get clean windows. Or so I thought.
Turns out—and they should make a Netflix documentary about this—the company I had selected was not some scrappy local window cleaner who had worked his way up the ladder. No, I'd been duped!
This is where the cracks started to show. After the booking confirmation came two marketing emails. Nobody wants regular marketing emails from a window cleaner; I want my windows cleaned. But I would be a hypocrite if I didn't respect the marketing. It's not like I don't send out thousands of emails a month on behalf of my clients. But the stack of cards started to tumble further when I received an email stating that the company was "actively working to match" my booking.
My what and my where? This isn't Hinge. I paid for a service, didn't I? I checked the website.
Right thereon the page: "Professional, reliable for a streak-free finish in undisclosed location."
Okay, so they have mans with vans and they need to check Ricky or Neil's schedule and assign someone to my windows.
I wait…
Next email: "We are working hard to get it sorted…"
Brilliant. Someone, somewhere, is working hard to find someone, to spend 10 minutes rubbing soapy water on my windows for £28. I did quite enjoy the image of the furious activity that must have gone on in the background. Was Maggie on the blower day and night, checking the system and mopping her brow as she worked on a strategy to get my windows cleaned? Even better, maybe they were interviewing.
"So, Mr. Sheen, where do you see yourself in two weeks' time?"
"Um, up a ladder at Mr. Grimes' house, Ma'am, cleaning his windows."
I didn't have time for them to hire. Two weeks later and all I could think was thank god I didn't opt for a discount on a recurring plan. By the time they actually cleaned, they might have well stayed and cleaned them again. How else could they fulfil my annual plan for 12 lots of clean windows?
So now I'm slightly annoyed. My convenience had been turned into inconvenience. And as a British person, this is practically ruining my life.
I go back on the website. Scroll, scroll, scroll. Ha! There it is, in black and white, hidden at the bottom of the page - the deception and the lies: "Proven Franchise Model."
I can't believe it. I thought I was buying a local gastro burger and what I was actually getting was Uber Eats McDonald's—and I definitely wasn't lovin' it. Not because the fries were cold and the metaphor had gone on too long, but because the bastard delivery driver had cycled off with my chips.
I do not understand this model completely, but my assumption from the limited amount of internet sleuthing is thus: This company, and many service companies like them, are essentially middlemen with killer marketing and SEO. Their model is based on providing a better, cleaner user experience and putting in better SEO practices than an average tradesman can ever hope for. Across several businesses I clicked through, they create a keyword illusion of locality when in fact they have never stepped foot in my village, let alone on a ladder to my windows.
I've seen this before. I once looked over a competitor to Mumble that had landing pages for every major town and city, in which he claimed to be a local provider of digital marketing services. I'd like to be humble and say I respect the hustle. I don't. I can just about accept that all marketers must play the game to get business, but if you are going to do this, at the absolute bare minimum, clean my fucking windows.
In the end, I received 10 emails and had to use the live chat to cancel my booking when it became evident that no one was coming to save me. I never got my windows cleaned to this day. I just stare out through them wistfully like a detective who now bears the weight of the case that I cracked, and yet left slightly broken by.
But I just can't help thinking how silly it all is. Not me and my windows. Just the fact that any company can do everything to get business—the SEO, the branding, the email marketing, the user experience—and yet not have the capability to do the basic bit: the service for which you want to be paid.
Three days after I cancelled my booking, I received an email from said franchise window cleaning company: "Gutter cleaning… Your Local Cleaner can handle it."
