With the air conditioning dead in August, nobody is waiting for your homepage animation.
Nobody in this situation is browsing
The air conditioning quit and the house is climbing. Hail put holes through the roof overnight. A February freeze split a pipe in an outside wall.
That person is not weighing your craftsmanship. Three facts, quickly: this is your trade, you come out as far as how far north you drive, here is the number.
Assume everything is working against you
Everyone dials at once after a storm, garages and steel buildings kill reception, and a phone that has been in a hot truck starts slowing itself down. Those three turn up together.
Build for the customer out on a downtown parking garage and the easy one looks after itself. Words paint first, images follow, nothing outside sits between the caller and your number.
Put the after-hours terms at the top
Overnight cover belongs in the first screenful, above anything about spring hail of the service page. Buried behind a footer link it may as well not exist.
Then spell it out. Someone answers until ten. Ring-back inside the hour. Storm weeks run worst-first and the rate goes up. Leave it fuzzy and people assume no.
Buttons a hurried thumb can hit
Standing outside in August, squinting at a dim screen, one hand on the phone. Small links packed close together do not get pressed.
Give the call button real size, pin it so it follows the scroll, and leave clear space so nothing else catches a tap made on a downtown parking garage.
Put a stopwatch on it
Next job out on a downtown parking garage, try to book yourself through your own form and time it properly.
The result usually lands badly. What you approved on a monitor indoors is not what a customer meets standing in a driveway.
