Robert F.

Most salesmen are crap. Their interpersonal skills make King Leonidas look like a charm school teacher. Their product knowledge has more holes than a Krispy Kreme donut factory. Sales process? We don't need no stinkin' sales process! These nominal salesmen present the product and... that's it. If that. If you think about it, there's only one reason these lazy bastards remain [semi] gainfully employed: people have to buy stuff. Someone's got to take the order. To wit: I once mystery-shopped a British BMW dealer's sales force. To a man, they were obsequious, pig-ignorant $#*!s. I explained the situation to the boss. Plan A: fire the entire sales team. Plan B: streamline the ordering process so customers spent as little time with the salesmen as possible. The Bimmer dealer opted for the latter—and doubled his conversion rate (from pathetic to lousy). So, while DYCR develops it e-commerce sales engine, here's a word of advice. At the very least, follow the first rule of sales. Make it easy for the customer to buy. As glyde.com is set to prove, there's gold in them thar' user-friendly e-commerce websites.

Forget marketing. Short of actually selling something, an e-commerce website's success depends on its ability to eliminate/diminish the barriers to sales. Not to insult anyone's intelligence (much), consumers can't buy something if they can't buy it.

And yet ninety-nine point something percent of all online shopping sites ignore this golden rule by confronting potential customers with a menu-based website. They hope the customer will find the right "aisle," locate and deposit a product in their virtual "shopping cart" and "checkout." Our man Frank Williams calls this ubiquitous e-commerce template "brochureware." I'm more comfortable with the phrase "content vomit."

EBay is hardly the worst example of the breed. But even though there are "only" 30 choices (above the fold, not including dozens of links that appear in the drop down menus), eBay's home page begs the question WHAT THE HELL DO I DO NOW? The deeper potential customers drill into sites like this, the worse it gets. Check out eBay's Daily Deal. Better yet, don't. You'll just confuse yourself.

As I said I've said for many days in many ways, it's a wonder anyone buys anything on sites like these. Oh wait, 97.5 percent don't (e-commerce industry average).

Speaking of eBay, Simon Rothman founded Glyde in 2006 after leaving eBay Motors. Cue Mandarkian laugh. Here's a guy who made his bones on one of the most complicated, legally fraught e-commerce services in all of Christendom, launching one of the most user-friendly auction sites in the free world. Ain't capitalism grand?

In taking on his former employer, Rothman joins the pack of niche auction sites nibbling away at eBay's core business, while the "online superstore" busies itself destroying its brand equity and getting its $#*! kicked by Amazon, Walmart, etc. By virtue of its simplicity, Glyde is the best of breed.

How did Michelangelo create David? By removing the bits of marble that weren't David. Same thing here. Minimalism is Glyde's unique selling point. To achieve this exalted state of being and nothingness, Glyde doesn't sell anything other than "dvds, cds, games, and books." Put the other way 'round, restricting itself to just these products enables Glyde's user-friendly interface.

Which abandons the shopping cart template for Google's search engine. Right answer. Glyde's virgin visitors know exactly what to do. Type a title in the search box, and the engine summons a list of possibilities in a drop-down menu. (I'd lose the "browse" category, but I'm a purist's purist.) Choose an item and it zooms center screen.

Thank God. One item. Just one. OK, there are seven related possibilities at the bottom of the screen. But the focus is clear. And, miracle of miracles, there's a call to action. BUY NOW. "Add to cart" can kiss my $#*!. The recommendations at the bottom slide left after a while, which is annoying, but I'll spot them the frill.

The resulting sign-up screen is a work of art; it requires just three pieces of information. It tells you where you are in the ordering process. It reassures you that your money is safe ("Secure Checkout" and the VeriSign Secured logo).

Selling is almost as easy. The site's designers realizes that we're all dumbos (true dat), so they lay it out for us with Apple Store-like simplicity. The USP (Unique Selling Point) here: Glyde mails you a pre-paid envelope to post your sold item to the buyer. As Wallace of Wallace and Grommit famously remarked, now that is clever.

The amount of money changing hands for hardbacks—even in excellent condition—is a relative pittance. I sold "Under the Banner of Heaven" for $2.50. Glyde reckoned that was the "market price." They wouldn't let me enter a price above a certain point. And if a book isn't on their list, you can't sell it.

Which is sensible enough, really. Glyde's transaction policies, including how to rate the condition of an item, are equally restrictive yet unobjectionable. The only one that sticks out: if a deal goes sour, BOTH parties pay shipping (around $2.50). Never mind. I've bought and sold items without hassle, clearing out my bookshelf while salving my conscience (you can donate your personal proceeds to charity).

It's well worth noting that Glyde is not always a bargain. The price of pre-owned versions of some hot items are actually higher than a new version shipped from Amazon—once you take shipping costs into account.

For example, Glyde is selling a pre-owned version of the latest Star Trek movie in excellent condition for $33.36, including postage [above]. Amazon sells a brand new copy for $22.97, all in. Or $19.99 with free shipping if you spend another $5.01.

This is no small point. Online superstores like Amazon and eBay are in the discount business. At least in the short term, Glyde and its imitators—and there will be imitators—will struggle to match the major playas on price for most blockbuster items. [FWIW: Glyde's new, out-of-print Dumbo is $12.32 less expensive than Amazon's cheapest version.]

Does it matter? For price-sensitive Trekkies, yes, obviously. For the buyer of my $2.50 hardback, I doubt it. Can Glyde make enough money on sales of non-hot or slightly warm DVDs, CDs, games and books to survive? Given Rothman's McKinsey pedigree, one has to assume he's run the numbers needed to get to yes.

One can also conject that Glyde is smart enough to tweak its business as it goes. As you'd expect from any good skirmisher, I imagine they're constantly refining their model to take on the big boys where and when they can. And living off the land in the meantime.

Meanwhile, Glyde's phenomenal website design makes it strong within itself. After all, convenience is the pure play e-tailers trump card. That's true relative to a shopping site's bricks and mortar competitors AND its online peers. Complication is the enemy of convenience. The simpler a website is to use, the more visitors tend to use it, and the less important price becomes (within certain boundaries).

Glyde may not know how to qualify, present and close the customer; but they sure make it easy to buy (and sell). Until they call *******054 to take the next step, I'm willing to bet it's more than enough to propel them to success.

Ease of navigation ***** (out of five)

Clear and concise. Passes the Mom test with flying colors.

Look and feel *****

Some commentators have slated the gray backround, but I like it. The pages are uncluttered and branded throughout. Awesome.

Personalization ****

Although the usual recommendation engine chugs away at the bottom of the buy screens, there's no direct, personal communication between Glyde and its users: welcome back, what did you think, check this out, etc. (If Glyde wanted to keep the site design sparse, they could work the personalization angle through email. But they don't.) Glyde lacks heart and soul.

Shopping Cart *****

This is how we do it.

Mobile App. N/A

None.

Overall ****

One of the very best e-commerce sites to arrive this year. As long as Glyde doesn't succumb to brand extensions (Glyde electronics, Glyde furniture), the company will be making money for many years to come. Some of it mine. Where's the iPhone app.?

When I lived in the UK, my British dining companions frequently taunted me about America's "fascination" with guns. I explained that our founding fathers considered government the greatest threat to personal liberty. When the citizenry packs heat, imposing a tyranny on the populace becomes... problematic. You can imagine how well that went down with the champagne socialists. They couldn't get past their idée fixe: America is a nation of selfish, paranoid, trigger-happy morons. Following Churchill's admonition–when you're going through hell, keep going—I'd unveil my fall-back position. No matter how you feel about gun crimes, firearms are are an excellent business. Did you know that U. K. arms industry is your country's most profitable export? That almost shut them up. Of course, American gun owners don't feel the need to justify their right to bear arms to a bunch of tax-loving limey bastards. They're too busy buying guns. Online.

You want busy? Last August, U.S. gun sales eclipsed a million units. For the month. Like every other sector, the gun biz has taken to the web in a big way. There's only one limitation: deliveries have to go through your local gun dealer (to assure compliance with all local, state and federal rules and regulations). Other than that, you're good to surf 'n shoot. Well, aside from the general suckitude of firearm-vending websites.

If you operate from the principle that e-commerce sites are only as good as they have to be, gun sites are great. By any other standard, the firearms industry's web efforts makes the online superstores' content vomit look like a gourmet meal. Sorry about the image, but there's no denying that gun-selling shopping sites are about as elegant as a sawed-off shotgun.

Number one on the "online gun sales" Google hit parade: gunbroker.com. It's the usual link-lousy mess. (Call it bullet brochureware.) "The World's Largest Online Auction of Firearms and Accessories" is the only auction site I've seen that uses a billowing flag to indicate a seller's home state. There's an app for that. Unfortunately.

The home page at impactguns.com typifies the segment's lack of appealing web design, user-friendly utility and coherent branding.

OK, I'm a web snob. Neither broker is about to go broke 'cause their websites look like $#*! and perform like a Chauchat AKA Show-show. Thankfully, it's been my experience that where there's seriously money, internet excellence follows. OK, benelliusa.com may not be the best example of how to sell something on the net, but it's suitably elegant (given that Montgomery Ward's used to sell Benelli motorcycles.) And there's no getting past the fact that benelliusa.com is a genuine hoot.

I know, I know. I've said it time and time again: using sex to sell anything other than a porn site or a sex toy is a big no-no. But the flesh/flash intro of a woman turning into an engraved shotgun and vice versa set is irresistibly entertaining. Guns, girls and Ave Maria? What's not to like? "She's coming January 19th, 2010." Now that I've got to see.

Anyway...

Short of a website based on a personalized sales engine (call *******054), this is about as good as it gets. The Gray Loon Marketing Group (whose own website leaves a lot to be desired) have created a clean, user-friendly interface that keeps Benelli's upmarket branding front and center.

Provided you stay front and center. Below the fold, there's a yawn of Benelli-boosting twaddle. The site's nether regions also assault visitors with an annoying billboard hyping a homeless man (a. K. a. A hunter from Benelli's Duck Commander TV series) and sharpshooter Tom Knapp's sub-page.

The greater sin: the farrago of Benelli "family" logos cluttering up the bottom of this and every other page.

As a general rule of thumb, anything that detracts from the main brand and its core message is, to quote Chris Isaak, a bad bad thing. A nest of logos sends a distraction of messages; or whatever the collective opposite of "synergy" may be. Put another way, if Benelli is "simply perfect," why complicate matters?

The same admonition applies above the fold. Imagine that the screen cap below was all there was—minus the gray bar offering eight other major links. Mouse over a product name and the gun appears in profile with specs, a strap-line (unique selling point) and an invitation to Learn More or Find a Dealer. Basta. Perfecto.

But OH NO. Benelli has to offer visitors parts, insight into its technology, a store, helpful links, a forum, videos and a TV schedule. Benelli is hardly alone in their belief that their company website should be all things to all people. But in this they are all dead wrong. The product is the hero. Must. Focus. Consumers. On the. Product.

Forum? Another url please. Video gallery AND TV? Both are a hot mess that deserve to die; the only important videos are already embedded in the product pages. Which are arranged simple and logically, with all the links needed to winkle-out sales-winning product knowledge, including the gunsmith's technological Innovations.

In fact, if Benelli's American webmeisters lost the top menu bar, moved-up the product page and lost the crap at the bottom, the product pages would be near-as-dammit perfect. Add a "Buy Now" link and we're done. As the screen cap I created above illustrates, less would be more. If only web designers got paid for the links, sub-pages and design detritus they didn't create...

The summary metaphor suggests itself. The benelliusa.com website is an excellent weapon. It's a out-guns anything the dealers are doing (and Smith and Wesson). But the Italian company's web work is still too much of a shotgun. Like any other e-commerce aspirant Benelli needs its website to be a rifle shot, aimed directly at the heart of each individual customer. The current site hits the mark, but it's no killing machine. So to speak.

Ease of navigation ** (out of five)

Easy enough to get around, but the drop downs don't work for me in Firefox (Safari loves it).

Look and feel *****

Why doesn't the orange background in the drop down menus match the Benelli logo's color? Generally speaking, the site's got real class and lighting-fast reflexes.

Personalization

None. Sigh.

Shopping Cart ******

The "find a dealer" widget works perfectly.

Mobile App.

None.

Overall ***

Great products and great product pages. Otherwise, excessive functionality and insufficient personalization.

Coupon for a group. Groupon. Geddit? I may not be representative of the average American consumer (perish the thought), but "groupon" conjures-up an image of a grouper smothered in Grey Poupon. Either way, Johnny Mnemonic approves. As do e-commerce venture capitalists. Excitingcommerce.com reports Germany's heitmanpreis.com recently scarfed thirty mil for the debut of their groupon-esque "if we all buy something together today, we get a big discount!" site. In fact, groupon and its imitators are a variation on woot's deal-of-the-day model, mixed with Rue La La's faux "supplies limited" call to action, blended with capitalist-tinged communism, scented with a spritz of Amway's pyramid power. Groupon's introductory video calls the hybrid "collective buying power." It also explains that buyers must enter their credit card info before the deal reaches the critical mass needed to trigger its activation, and reminds you to email your best buds to trigger said tipping point. "So if you really want the Groupon," the site warns, "be sure to either beg or threaten your friends." Clever, eh? But in all the wrong ways. And that's just the half of it.

If the e-commerce hive mind so ordains, Groupon offers its participants discounts on things to do, see, eat or buy. So, by necessity, the site thinks local. Provided you live within striking distance of one of 42 urban centers, you're good to become a, gag, groupie. In theory. In practice, 16 of the cities on the list aren't up and running yet. Franchises available now!

Meanwhile, in theory, "each day we feature something cool to do at an unbeatable price." In practice, not so much. Ian sets us straight on today's Beantown deal of the day. Here's his revelation, as entered into groupon's "Discuss the Deal" section:

I'm sorry, but this is a lame groupon. You can get a 50% off ticket for shear madness on several websites and at the half-price ticket booth anytime. I like it when groupon gives offers that you can't find anywhere else. Unfortunately this doesn't qualify — i'm sure 90% of the people at shear madness pay 50% of the ticketed price……

Hmmm. "Where is the Group On coupon?" Dan Abushanab demands. "It's been a couple hours that the 'deal on' has been met, but I don't have my coupon yet. Is there a problem with processing?" "Same as above," a less literate Facebooker agrees. "How do you know if the ourchase was exicuted properly. It's been about 6 hours and I haven't seen an e-mail." And worse. "This is irritating – they now have our money and we can't buy tickets. Will all the good performance times be sold out before we get out vouchers?"

To their credit, as far as I can tell, groupon.com doesn't delete their customers' kvetching. And David A—presumably a groupon rep—replied to Dan's querulous query six hours later.

You can use most Groupons the day after you purchase them – our featured businesses typically request we hold back the masses on the first day while they see to the phones.

You can print your Groupon as soon as your order is processed, which typically happens a few minutes after placing your order, but can take up to a few hours if we're slammed (we'll email you when your Groupon is ready).

I'm not entirely sure this reply passes the bull$#*!—I mean, smell test. Actually, it raises doubts about the mechanics underlying the whole operation.

Call me a cynical bastard, but what if groupon.com only pretended it achieved the buyers needed to activate the deal? What if they made it look as if 75 buyers gave their credit card details for theater tickets in order to lure the next 367 buyers? How do we know there are 442 buyers, anyway?

What the hell. Let's give groupon the benefit of the doubt, despite some "bugs" and dissatisfied customers. Checking on a past deal for an hour of massage, Moore Massage does indeed charge $95 for an hour of hands-on therapy. Groupon's $45 discount is such a deal.

Such a deal that a claimed 1002 groupies (blech) punched their ticket. Methinks they're now victims of their own collective enthusiasm; not to mention groupon.com's and its partner's greed. To wit: it would take Moore's massage mavens 41.5 days to administer 1002 one-hour sessions—provided they provided the service 24 hours a day.

By the same token, 546 cooking class attendees? How long will it take the Cape Ann Whale Watch to work their way through 2557 tickets? In other words, even if groupon isn't a scam, it is. I mean, what do you call it when you pay money for something up front that you can't access within a reasonable amount of time?

Oh, did I mention that "It is up to the business' discretion as to how long their Groupon lasts"? "Is it even legal for these things to expire in California?" Stefan W asks. "I know gift cards can't expire, and these are quite similar in nature to gift cards since we're paying cash for them…" To which LA grouponista Alexandra T. Replies:

The Groupon has a three month expiration date. After March 23,2010 the Groupon is only worth $7, the value that is added on when purchasing through us is lost. This is in compliance with the California law because the money individuals have put towards the Groupon is still available for use.

As the Brits say, clear as mud. Or, paraphrasing our English cousins, groupon.com is too clever for its customers' own good.

Bob Dylan got it right. It may be the Devil or it may be the Lord, but you gotta serve somebody. If you approach groupon.com with caution (is this really the cheapest deal I can get?) and play the game correctly (first on the phone to the participating service), it's not a bad deal. Otherwise, there are several ways to get screwed. Clicking around groupon's wonderland, reading the fine print, I'm in little doubt that the company puts its advertisers first.

It's also true that all these shopping club sites operate without any transparency or independent oversight. Can you say class action lawsuit? Unless, of course, everything is on the up-and-up. What are the odds?