
Rule No. 1: All time is relative
My washing machine taught me this maxim on the day that it broke. Despite saying that the load would take 2 hours to finish (yes, Americans, and that is just washing), it was still working its way through the cycle about three hours later. I later found out that it would never finish the cycle because the machine could not empty the water.
In the larger context of French service, this rule comes up in various contexts. First, when French service people tell you that something will take 2 or 3 days, it might as well mean a week or a month (especially if it's the Summer Holidays), depending on the circumstances and how they count time. Second, when a store sign indicates that the store opens or closes on a particular day or a particular hour, this is merely an "indication" subject to the whim of the owner without so much as an explanation beyond "fermeture exceptionelle" (exceptional closure).
This last point would have been handy to know when I visited the store where the machine was purchased to take advantage of the two-year warranty left on the machine. I arrived promptly at 10am, the appointed hour for the store opening, hoping to avoid a line and get to my job within a reasonable hour (I'm American, you see, so time is still objective). 45 minutes later, the store owner sauntered up the street, and without so much as a "Bonjour," nodded in my general direction and said, "The rain, you know...." Of course, I thought, the "rain" is cause for an "exceptional opening."
After explaining my situation, he took down my number, looked at all the necessary documents, checked his database to confirm my documents, and told me, "My headquarters will call you. Probably sometime later today."
As Rule No. 1 dictates, however, "today" could mean tomorrow, the next day, or next week. I decided to expect nothing.
This last point would have been handy to know when I visited the store where the machine was purchased to take advantage of the two-year warranty left on the machine. I arrived promptly at 10am, the appointed hour for the store opening, hoping to avoid a line and get to my job within a reasonable hour (I'm American, you see, so time is still objective). 45 minutes later, the store owner sauntered up the street, and without so much as a "Bonjour," nodded in my general direction and said, "The rain, you know...." Of course, I thought, the "rain" is cause for an "exceptional opening."
After explaining my situation, he took down my number, looked at all the necessary documents, checked his database to confirm my documents, and told me, "My headquarters will call you. Probably sometime later today."
As Rule No. 1 dictates, however, "today" could mean tomorrow, the next day, or next week. I decided to expect nothing.
Rule No. 2: The result is never what you expected
My washing machine has often promised that it would "dry" my laundry, but it has actually never dried a load... ever. After five hours of futile spinning (and endless expenditure of electricity), the clothes come out moist and cold.
Rule No. 2 fully applied when I tried to get my washing machine fixed. When the store manager told me that the headquarters would call me, I thought they would call me to fix my washing machine. The headquarters called me the day after my visit, but instead of fixing my machine, gave me the number of the manufacturer to call.
The problem was -- the number they gave me was wrong. I called back several times with no response, and finally had to go back to the store in the evening. When I got to the store, however, there was an "exceptional closure". (Rule No. 1 really bites.)
The next day, I went back to the store, who again told me that the headquarters would call me. The headquarters called, I received the right number, and I called the manufacturer. The manufacturer told me that I needed to call another number, and that number told me to call a service agent unaffiliated with the manufacturer to set up an appointment. My washing machine had now been flooded for five days.
And finally, some good bit of news: the repairman could come on Saturday.
My washing machine has often promised that it would "dry" my laundry, but it has actually never dried a load... ever. After five hours of futile spinning (and endless expenditure of electricity), the clothes come out moist and cold.
Rule No. 2 fully applied when I tried to get my washing machine fixed. When the store manager told me that the headquarters would call me, I thought they would call me to fix my washing machine. The headquarters called me the day after my visit, but instead of fixing my machine, gave me the number of the manufacturer to call.
The problem was -- the number they gave me was wrong. I called back several times with no response, and finally had to go back to the store in the evening. When I got to the store, however, there was an "exceptional closure". (Rule No. 1 really bites.)
The next day, I went back to the store, who again told me that the headquarters would call me. The headquarters called, I received the right number, and I called the manufacturer. The manufacturer told me that I needed to call another number, and that number told me to call a service agent unaffiliated with the manufacturer to set up an appointment. My washing machine had now been flooded for five days.
And finally, some good bit of news: the repairman could come on Saturday.
Rule No. 3: It is always your fault
Rule No. 3 is the Golden Rule of France. When I lived in Japan, every other sentence out of my mouth was "sorry." In France, I need not say it because it is assumed and implied in every interaction. Some key examples of how this rule is applied for the uninitiated:
- I'm sorry I bothered your reading of the newspaper by attempting to pay for your product
- I'm sorry to infringe on your nice smoke in a prohibited area by coughing at the noxious fumes you are emitting
- I'm sorry to suggest that it was in any way, shape, or form your fault by offering an explanation for why I'm back in your store because the product you gave me was defective (See Rule No. 2)
Judging from the color and length of the hair, it wasn't mine. But the repairman didn't seem to mind as he berated me for wasting his time by calling him on such an insignificant matter. According to him, I should have checked the pipes, and that in the future, he would refuse to come. I decided not to mention the time that I had spent trying to get the problem fixed. I also decided not to mention that this was, in fact, his job.
[NOTE: To show I learned my rules well, and remembering Rule No. 2, I wasn't so sure he had fixed the problem as promised, and so I asked the repairman to stay while I did a load. He didn't seem to mind -- all time is relative anyway (see Rule No. 1).]
A couple days later, the manufacturer sent me a form asking for my comments and to "assure [me] of [their] high considerations" (a stock phrase in French letters). I have to say all in all, I'm pretty satisfied.