A daunting array of narrow streets that zig and zag, dead-ends and baffling one-ways bring a steady flow of vehicles with relatively minor damage rolling into Boston Body Works. The shop has developed numerous marketing and production techniques to serve a concentrated urban customer base.
Located in the heart of the city not far from the historic site of the Boston Massacre and Paul Revere's house, the 15-bay shop benefits from the crumple zone bumps born of traffic patterns dating back to colonial days when the original village was designed to repel – or at the very least confuse – an invasion force.
"It started in Revolutionary times; there was no main street so an army couldn't march through town," explains owner Patrick Cibotti.
"There are still a lot of those old streets that 'lead to nowhere' that are still here. It adds to our business because there are more fender benders because of all the confusion – most of the cars we repair are not train wrecks," he says.
Fixing 20 to 24 vehicles a week at about $2,000 per job with an average cycle time of three days, the operation maintains a complete parts department with some of the more frequently utilized components already in-hand. "We order a lot of parts ahead of time."
Frequently the vehicle owner continues to use the car while the necessary parts are procured. "We allow it to drive around the streets until we're ready – when we call the customer in we can hit the ground running."
This strategy also is reflective of a growing trend Cibotti is seeing amid a tough economy. "If the car is drivable, the person's not repairing it," he says. Fewer vehicles are now coming into the collision repair pipeline, especially after the region experienced a comparatively mild winter without the normal influx of ice and snow-related accidents.
Cibotti estimates that out of 10 vehicles involved in a minor crash, four of the owners are going to pocket the insurance settlement money and keep on driving the car as-is.
The result is that insurance carriers tend to be conservative in the initial assessment of a given job. "They're writing just 50 percent of the damage, so when you get a car it's always under-written," according to Cibotti.
"It's not too bad, but it's time-consuming. You have to call them up and negotiate." In most instances, however, insurers eventually cover the cost. "They know what needs to be done."
Magnetic appeal
With so many motorists choosing to remain behind the wheel of a slightly damaged car, Cibotti has hit upon a unique marketing method: Every technician gets his own stack of business cards to tuck under the windshield wipers of parked vehicles in need of body work. They are also issued band-aid lookalike magnets emblazoned with the company name. "Their job is to put a magnet on damaged cars" that they come across in their daily travels.
Slightly larger than a real adhesive strip and not too overbearing, the magnet campaign has proven to be a success, particularly since the shop is within close proximity of the bustling Boston Medical Center and its large population of hospital personnel. "Women especially respond to the promotion," he reports. "It's talking their language, and there's a lot of business that's driving to our door."
Ninety percent of Cibotti's marketing sphere is restricted to within a five-mile radius. "We're in a tight urban area, and that's about how far people will come to your place of business." A 10-story building sits adjacent to the shop, soon to be joined by a new skyscraper encompassing 23 levels, he said.
The shop is in the process of upgrading its Internet presence with an enhanced website, Twitter feeds and a Facebook page, along with developing a mobile app for smartphones.
Cibotti is a big believer in the pull of magnets, as each year he prints up the season schedules of the Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics and Bruins. Distribution is widespread through other businesses in the neighborhood.
"It's an inexpensive way to be in someone's house all year long." The Boston Body Works contact information "is on their refrigerator 365 days a year," he says.
Word-of-mouth from satisfied clients and insurance company referrals are other draws based on the shop's solid 24-year presence in the community. "We're a known commodity because we've been planted here for so long. We give each and every customer good, old-fashioned service."
Cibotti's uncle owns a package delivery service, and he is paid to adorn his box truck with the company moniker. The shop also has a similarly labeled Chevrolet HHR that is routinely driven by an employee for heightened visibility and name recognition. The same concept is carried forth via T-shirts and sponsorships of the South End Youth Baseball Association, Hope House, the Newmarket Business Association and Madison Park High School's auto body apprenticeship program.
A learning experience
Four of Cibotti's 14 staffers have been on the job for 20 years, and all four came through Madison Park's trade school classes. It remains a key source of the company's workers as 80 percent of them originate from the program.
"You have an avenue for getting new employees. They all have to be trained (in the shop's specific procedures), but you're always getting fresh hands."
The interns are paid above minimum wage, and "some of them want to stay and some of them say, 'This isn't for me,'" Cibotti says.
"It's a good program for the students and a good program for us." The shop routinely arranges classes featuring industry vendors supplying the most current education available. "I'm linked to the teachers – they're not using 10-year-old technology."
Boston Body Works is in-turn infused with highly motivated workers eager to make their mark. "The kids are untainted. They're happy to be here; this is 'the real world' and they're fired up," he reports.
This level of enthusiasm has the workers readily embracing stellar customer service and displaying a positive attitude.
"My employees are all part of the sales force," says Cibotti. "We tell them, 'It's our business – it's not my business.'"
One of the practices entails what Cibotti calls "green light salesmanship." Noting how "it took me forever to understand that thinking," the method involves being respectful while getting your point across. Customers are told, "You're right, sir, but let me explain this to you..."
Being lean
The waterborne paint-equipped shop's adaptation of lean production strategies starts with "a place for everything and everything in its place," he says.
Another element is mobile tool boxes sized similarly to a small parts cart. "You roll it over to the job and you're not going back and forth all the time."
The focus on organization is additionally seen in the well-stocked parts department. Each repair order number ends in a 1-10 figure matching 10 storage bins that coordinate with the current job being undertaken. "The parts guy (delivering the components) puts the right part in the right bin because he knows our system. We tried putting Ford parts over here and Toyota parts over there, and it didn't work."
Cibotti makes a point of sticking with reliable vendors that are amendable to the shop's routines, including pre-ordering based on a mostly eye-balled initial estimate, hot-shot deliveries when warranted and adherence to the main operational timeslots. "We don't want a parts supplier to come by at 4 o'clock in the afternoon."
Establishing and tweaking operational hours is an important concept that Cibotti is especially interested in perfecting.
"I can never understand why some guys (in the industry) say they need a bigger shop. The solution is to stay open longer. We're open two hours longer than a typical shop." If your business is exceptionally busy for your available space, Cibotti suggests running a second or third shift or working seven days a week. An "8-day workweek" consisting of four days on and four days off is another option if additional time is of the essence.
Boston Body Works employs a "5-3 day." Starting at 7:30 a.m., the staff is on the job for five hours (with a flexible morning coffee break) until a 12:45 p.m. hour-long lunchtime. (The shop is open 8 a.m. to noon on Saturdays.) Back on the job at 1:45 p.m. Monday through Friday, work continues until 4:30 with the shop officially closing at 5:30. That extra hour is mostly spent shuffling some 15 customer vehicles from the parking lot across the street to the secure overnight confines of the building's interior.
"As crazy as this sounds," the cars in the parking lot are left unlocked during the day. Cibotti has learned by experience that thieves tend to be more attracted to a locked vehicle. "If they want to steal something they'll break the window. If we leave the doors unlocked they'll think there's nothing in the car."
The heavy-on-the-morning employee work schedule also stems from Cibotti's on-the-job hard knocks. "If you can't 'beat the day' in the morning, you won't do it. If we can get five good hours from them in the morning, we 'beat the day,'" he says.
"I'm just going by the way I feel," and what he sees in observing how most people end up fighting the urge to take a nap and slip into slow motion following a meal. "After lunch – you know how that goes: After lunch I want to go to sleep."
