I’ve been paying Gold’s Gym $39.99 every month for four years now. Guess how long it’s been since I’ve worked out there. Months.
So every now and then when I’m reviewing my credit card statement, I’m all: “I should cancel this. What a waste of $40.” But I don’t. Because I realize I like being the type of dude who belongs to Gold’s Gym.
In the rare event I actually show up, I like the environment there. The energy, the attitude, the camaraderie – even if it is packed with meatheads wearing string tank tops, sporting fanny packs filled with God-knows-what, grunting like it’s going out of style. Hey, at least they’re putting in work. Beats listening to a bunch of soccer moms yammer on their iPhones while walking slowly on treadmills.
And so my rebill survives another 30 days.
But do you see what’s going on here? Canceling my Gold’s Gym membership is not about the money; it’s about my identity.
Which is why million dollar brands make their opinions known. This is who we are. This is what we stand for. Here’s what we love. Here’s what we hate. If you can’t handle it? There’s the door. If you can? Welcome to the fam. You’re one of us.
See, we’re all selling products and services, but not really. What we’re truly selling is a statement about our customers. Doing business with us means (blank).
And if you don’t fill in that blank? Then buying from you means nothing. And that’s a problem.
