I have read hilarious stories about French inefficiencies in memoirs from various expats. David Sedaris has some funny ones. David Lebovitz, in particular, has a few about bank tellers in Paris not having change, and about store clerks so obtuse about returns that he has decided it is easier to buy something anew rather than to even attempt a return. There are things that the French do well – dressing and eating and driving scooters on the sidewalk come to mind. Some things, though, not so much. It turns out that one thing the French have trouble with is processing transactions – any transaction, I am beginning to think.
American corporations are so focused on customer loyalty and satisfaction, that a routine transaction performed millions of times a day is so easily completed, that the consumer is barely aware that any effort is even necessary. For example, renting a car. It doesn’t matter that we used an American company to rent our car – on the presumption that it would make things easier. That American car rental company still has to employ French personnel to carry out the work of the day. And carrying things is so not chic.
I elected to stay in our flat with Riley, while Ken and Aidan went to do the manly work of car-wrangling. We were packed for the week and ready to meet them the moment they came triumphantly back with their prize – it was 9am when they left for the metro. We expected that they’d be back by 10am and we’d reach Provence by 4pm. Sooo American of us.
At 11am, I got a text – “taking awhile, don’t worry”
Finally at NOON, we got the call and went downstairs. The process of renting our glorious Renault Scenic took two entire hours. In America, this process consists of walking out to your car – where the keys are already in the ignition – and showing your papers to the attendant as you drive off the lot. In France, eh, it took 45 minutes just to determine whether the gas gauge read empty or full… because it was all one color. It was finally decided that the only way to know for sure, was to have Ken drive the car to a gas station and see if he could put any gas into the car, naturally.
Of course to do this, he had to first find the car. Let me repeat that. He. Had to find. The car. The clerk gave him the block that she “thought” the car was parked on, and sent him off on his own. The fact that he went back to the rental office – with the car - shows that he is a better person than I am.
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