When a ripple of globalization finally finds its way to Paris, it's hard not to see the upside. Like when Starbuck's started popping up everywhere from the Madeleine to the Marais. Sure, it was hard not to feel guilty passing up an authentic neighborhood café for an obnoxious American chain, but it's amazing how no-smoking signs, friendly service, and soy milk can melt guilt away into pure contentment. Or when “returns" and "exchanges” finally became part of French salespeople’s vocabulary.Yes, service après vente in Paris has definitely come a long way. I still have nightmarish memories of my failed attempt to return spoiled cheese to my local G-20 market eight years ago. I went in mustering all of my French-acquired politeness, asking with wide eyes what the store policy was for returns. But the store manager took one look at me and my rotten cheese and started yelling. How dare I come to him with cheese problems when obviously he wasn't the one who had made the cheese! Another time, I tried taking a top back to Benetton--it had reacted with my deodorant the first time I had worn it and turned into a mottled mess of ghostly white stains. The saleslady told me with a snotty smile that it wasn't Benetton's problem; I needed to complain to my deodorant maker. . . so basically all purchases used to be final in France--unless a store had a specially designated service après vente annex building (and the customer had a lot of time or was at least willing to cry pretty hard).
Dieu merci, in the past few years, service après vente has become intriguingly simple. I am happy to say that I have successfully exchanged rotten Noirmoutier potatoes at Monoprix for fresh ones, and I have even exchanged a flawed clothing article twice without a whimper of a protest from the sales assistant. Nothing spells globalization like a helpful salesperson in Paris.
Alan Ruck, Matthew Broderick, and Mia Sara as Cameron Frye, Ferris Bueller, and Sloane Peterson. [Online image] 1986.
