I found myself in Stroud last week, not for a glamorous speaking gig or a dazzling partnership announcement, but because I needed to pick up a Facebook Marketplace impulse purchase (shut up we’ve all done it!)
So I wandered into a coffee shop, not The Meet Point Coffee in Summertown, obviously, because their empire hasn’t yet spread into Stroud. Give them time. I ordered my flat white, blinked, and in less than thirty seconds I had been called:
Pal.
Mate.
Buddy.
All by the same barista.
Now, let me be clear: I love friendliness. I love warmth. I love a good casual tone. My entire business philosophy is built on people buy from people, especially in indie business land where we don’t have the luxury of facelessness or billion-pound ad budgets. But something about this triple-whammy of British-guy/girl-at-the-pub endearments made me feel… a tiny bit ick.
Not offended, just mildly disoriented, like I’d accidentally walked into a regional dialect generator set to “relentlessly familiar.”
And it got me thinking.
As small independent businesses, we’re constantly told to “act more like the big brands.” You know: polished. Slick. Optimised to death. Brand guidelines longer than a Tolstoy novel.
But here’s the thing: post-Covid, humans don’t want transactions. They crave interactions.
And there’s research to back this up (look at me being all grown up!):
• A 2021 YouGov study found that 62% of Brits felt more loyal to local and independent businesses post-pandemic, citing “personal connection” as the key reason.
• A 2022 British Social Attitudes Survey noted a spike in the value placed on community belonging and informal social contact—people want to be seen again, not just processed.
• And multiple reports from the Office for National Statistics show that remote/hybrid working increased feelings of social isolation, making everyday interactions (your barista, your workspace neighbours) unexpectedly meaningful.
So perhaps my reaction wasn’t to the words “pal” or “mate” but to the speed of them. The barista didn’t know me yet. The familiarity felt unearned, a warmth fired out of a hospitality cannon before I’d even taken my card out to pay.
There’s a difference between casual and connection.
One is a vibe.
The other is a relationship.
And indie businesses, real ones, not the faux-artisanal type, actually have the power to provide that relationship. It’s not just OK for us to be less brand and more human… it’s arguably our responsibility.
We can do things the big brands simply can’t:
Notice people. Remember their quirks. Make them feel less like customers and more like part of the furniture (in a nice way).
This whole coffee-shop miniature identity crisis reminded me why The Cluster exists in the way it does.
We are not a transactional co-working space. You are never “Desk #14” or “Hot desker 091.”
You are a human being with a business and a brain and a favourite seat and probably a mildly chaotic to-do list too.
I represent the brand because, I mean, let’s be honest, I’m basically always there. But also because the brand is human. It’s not a corporate coworking chain where you swipe a fob and vanish into a beige carpeted abyss.
At The Cluster:
• I know your name.
• I know what you’re working on.
• I know that you take your tea strong or your coffee black (though you should expect a very poorly made tea or coffee, I am shambolic at making both!)
• And you’re not just a member, you’re part of the community.
It’s the exact opposite of the “pal… mate… buddy” drive-by friendliness. Ours is slower. Real. Earned.
We build interactions, not transactions.
Here’s today’s attempt at wisdom, chaotically assembled but politely offered:
As small business owners, we don’t need to shout louder than the big brands. We just need to connect deeper.
Show your quirks.
Show your face.
Show your humanity.
People don’t come back because you called them “pal.” They come back because you made them feel like they belong and if that means being mildly chaotic along the way, well, welcome to the club. Or rather, the Cluster.