service

C’est comme ça

Posted on by MELewis

Peintres tour eiffel

I know better than to expect service with a smile in France. Around here, we are happy to be served, period. But lately a few particularly awful customer service experiences have me ranting once again.

First there was the painter who was supposed to redo the south-facing façade of our house. It started out well enough. He showed up when promised, twice, sent me a quote for the work, cashed the 40% deposit and began the job in May. Things quickly went downhill. He began by painting over the chrome bolts that are a design feature of our modern house, and dripping paint on several glass panels around the deck. I explained that he needed to protect the area, so he taped down plastic and used a bit of tape. He got half-way through the job when the skies clouded over and spat down a few drops of rain. Then he disappeared for two weeks, leaving us with a half-painted house, plastic bits on the deck and vague promises to come back soon. August, he swore. We are still waiting.

Then there’s the postman. Not only does he never ring twice, often he never rings at all. I find the slip of paper in my letter box, down by the road, saying that he attempted to deliver a parcel while I was out. Des mensonges, Monsieur! I was there. Deaf I may be but I can still hear the door bell. The funny thing about that slip of paper is that, to look at it, you would think it should be easy to get your parcel (assuming you read French; otherwise, bonne chance in decoding this baby!).

Avis de passageTwo options, it says. Choose a new delivery date online or go pick up your parcel at the local post office, anytime from 3 pm the following day. “Mais non,” says the woman who works at our local post office as she explains it to me with a vague school-marmish air. It doesn’t work like that around here. By the time the postman reaches her small post office, at least two working days will have passed (not counting the weekly Wednesday closure). When I express frustration, not only at the poor service but at the erroneous message on the official piece of paper, I get nothing more than a Gallic shrug.

Et oui, c’est comme ça!

Online shopping saves me from having to deal with such characters. Most of the time. As much as I love Amazon, regardless of their tax issues, I shop some French websites for specialty items like pet supplies. Our two Frenchies are excitable types on walks and it takes some good quality leashes to rein them in. After spending a good while researching just the leash I needed (short, strong, flexible grip), I was ready to place my order on a site called Polytrans (the French are not big on sexy brand names).

The site claimed to offer free delivery on orders over 49 euros, so I calculated my order to include an additional item, bringing the total to just over 50 euros. But when it came time to place my order, lo and behold, the site offered me a so-called ‘loyalty discount’ based on a previous order, deducting three euros off the total and adding in 7.50 for delivery. Gah!

I called the number listed on the website for support, politely explaining my case and expecting that they would simply remove the ‘discount’ and let me get on with it. No such luck. All I had to do, the woman explained in a voice that suggested she regularly dealt with dummies, was order some small item to make up the difference and get free delivery. When I told her that I’d already done this, and frankly, their loyalty points were having the opposite effect, she dropped the mask of customer service and said that there was no way she could change the order anyway. Imagine if they had to do that for everyone?

Needless to say, I hung up and took my business elsewhere.

When the French complain about ‘unfair’ competition from the Amazons of this world, I will point out that little example of customer ‘service’. It is just one among so many others. When they moan about the loss of local jobs and soaring unemployment, I will think about my half-painted façade, along with the handful of other jobs (electrical, roof, cleaning) we’d be happy to pay for if only we could find someone willing to do them.

Et oui. C’est comme ça.

Have you had a memorable customer experience lately, in France or elsewhere?

Service ‘sans’ smile

Posted on by MELewis

The French have mastered the art of 'le paquet cadeau'

Mastering the art of ‘le paquet cadeau’

You may read the heading of this post and assume it’s going to be another litany of complaint against France and all things French. You would be wrong, although that would be a reasonable assumption. I am about to tell you that there is a service culture in France. What there is not is a smile culture.

The reasons for that are anybody’s guess. Bad dental work? Stiff facial muscles? A refusal to bend one’s anatomy to social norms dictated by les américains? The fact is that the French do not feel a need to smile all the time. When you get over that expectation, you will enjoy surprisingly good service.

Start by putting aside preconceived notions of what you consider essential to good service: a friendly greeting, prompt attention, gratitude for your custom.

Say you enter a small shop in a typical French town. I am talking about a ‘boutique’ not a ‘grand surface’ – a whole different strategy applies for shopping at the super store. Start by saying a general bonjour to anyone within hearing distance. This will help ensure you blip on the radar as belonging to the civilized world. Look around casually and notice there is another customer already being served by the lone salesperson. At this point you need to be patient. The salesperson – whether the owner or an employee – is unlikely to pay you any attention at all until they finished serving the first customer.

“Madame?” (Or “Monsieur” as the case may be….)

This will be your clue that the person is ready to deal with you. Do not expect any greeting beyond this. The salesperson does not know you or want to know where you’re from or how you are.

But from this point forward you may be be pleasantly surprised. French service is:

  • Professional
    The French take pride in their profession, whether as a server or a sales assistant in a specialty shop. Even service sector jobs are held by trained professionals rather than students or casual hires.
  • Informed
    The notion of expertise is essential in France. Whether you are looking for a particular wine or widget, you will benefit from service that is generally well informed and experienced.
  • Unhurried
    Unless you arrive just before closing, you can expect to take your time. Many shop owners or sales assistants will go out of their way to show you different options and take the time to help you choose the item that suits you.
  • Low pressure
    You will not necessarily feel pressured to purchase a more expensive item or even buy anything at all.
  • A little bit extra
    ‘Le paquet cadeau’ is a standard service in the French boutique. Although it has become less of an art in recent years, you will always be offered free gift wrapping. Some of the creations I’ve taken home over the years have been like small works of art worthy of framing.

I’m always amazed at the time people take in shops here. True to my North American roots, I am usually in a hurry. Often I already know what I want and if not I make up my mind quickly. But sometimes I make the effort to slow down a little and take the time, so as not to disappoint the shop owner eager to share his or her knowledge. On those occasions I usually learn something new. And I always go away with a sense of value from the exchange.

Sometimes, as the shopkeeper shows me to the exit, I even take away a smile.

What’s your experience of service in France? Good, bad or indifferent?

 

5 reasons to love French restaurants

Posted on by MELewis

Le-Cochon-lOreille-menuYou may be surprised by this list – it’s not about the food. In France, good food and wine are pretty well a given. But there are a few things about the restaurant experience itself that I appreciate. Of course, by ‘French restaurants’ I mean restaurants in France rather than those that serve French food.

1. Professional wait staff

One thing you can be assured of in France is that you will never be subjected to the phrase, “Hi, my name is Bob and I’ll be your server this evening!” No introductions will be performed, nor will you be asked where you are from or expected to engage in witty repartee with your waiter. And, outside of the touristy parts of Paris and Lyon, chances are the service will be not snooty but smooth and professional. I’ll take efficient service over fake friendly any day

2. You get what you pay for

Restaurants in France have a strict hierarchy, from the simple café-bar that serves the odd jambon-beurre to the Michelin-starred restaurant gastronomique. In between are all the traditional and family-run establishments where you can get a full meal including starter, plat du jour, dessert and coffee at a very reasonable price. It won’t be fancy, but it will be what it claims to be: nothing more or less. A recently voted French law comes into effect in 2015 obliging all restaurants to clearly identify on their menus freshly prepared foods or dishes with a ‘fait maison’ logo.

3. Mineral water

Flat or sparkling, large or small bottle: whether as an apéritif or an accompaniment to any meal, you will always be offered eau minérale (at a cost) along with your wine. If you insist, of course, all restaurants are obliged by law to provide a carafe d’eau (tap water) for free. But don’t be afraid to ask twice.

4. Everything in good time

The French take the time to enjoy a proper meal at lunch and even more so in the evening. You will never feel rushed at table, or (horror!) have your plate removed before you are finished, as has happened to me more than once outside of France. Assuming you are dining at a full-service restaurant, you will be offered, in this order: apéritif, appetizer, main course, cheese or dessert, coffee. You can try to speed it along; it’s like trying to swim against the current. My husband, who prefers the speedier North American style of service, repeatedly asks to have his coffee served with dessert; it invariably arrives after.

5. No need to leave a tip

Tipping is entirely optional in France (as it should be!). Not just in theory but in practice. Service is included with the tax so if you do leave a tip, there’s no need to make it 10% of the bill as you would in many English-speaking countries. Leaving a few coins at the end of a meal is standard recognition for good service and will be appreciated by the wait staff.

And here’s something else I enjoy…

When I first came to France I was frustrated by the fact that you could not find many places in Paris to enjoy a coffee with the wonderful croissants and pastries on offer at every boulangerie-pâtisserie. Now, the advent of Starbucks and the rise in coffee culture in general has led to many bakeries like Paul opening up café service, or ‘salon de thé’ in the fancier places. Truly the best of both worlds.

Et vous? What’s your favorite thing about French restaurants?