20 euros in coins

January 15, 2008

It's not very often that I lose my patience here in France...or at least let it be shown that I've lost my patience somewhere deep inside. It happened once last month--right in front of KKW, while she was visiting.

I was at the train station, trying to buy her ticket for her. There are these handy machines that you can use for all your ticket purchasing needs...that is, if you have all coins or a French ATM card. That day, I did not 21 euros in coins, and I don't ever have a French ATM card. So I went to the window. I explained that I would like the particular pass that costs 21 euros. The man behind the window asked if I had cash.

"Yes, but I don't have change."
"I cannot sell you the ticket," he explains, "unless you use a check. You need to use the machine."
"But I don't have enough change for the machine. In fact, I have no change. I only have bills."
"I cannot sell you the ticket."
This is where I get irritated, and say, "Why not?"
And this is where he pushes me over the edge, by replying, "Because that is how our company does things."

What kind of answer is that? I walk away from the ticket counter perplexed. I have no idea, now, how to buy a ticket. I've lived in this country for a year, bought tickets a million times...and on top of all that, am wanting (in my stupid pride) to show KKW that I am on top of things when I am overseas. But I can't buy her silly little ticket. Tears well up in my eyes, because I am that frustrated.

Another worker man came out from the window and asked if he could help me. I explain that I need to buy a ticket, I don't have change, and that man (and yes, I did point) would not sell me one. The nice worker explains that the man behind the window can give me change for my bills, to which I can then use the machine.

Now here's where I go all ethnocentric in my head. France prides itself on being all about reason...I think that THEY THINK they do things logically. Will someone please explain to me what sense it makes that (a) the man behind the window CAN SELL tickets--if you use a check, and (b) the man behind the window can take and give cash in order to make change, but (c) the man behind the window CANNOT SELL me a ticket if I want to use cash? What in the world?

So I went back up to the window, handed the man 25 euros in cash, to which he gave me 25 euros in coins, and then I went and put the 21 euros into the machine that gave me the same ticket the window man could have given me 10 minutes earlier...sans tears.

I nearly had another moment just like this today. I went to the post office on my way to catch the 12:32 train. I thought, middle of the day, with tempest weather outside, surely there will be no one at the post office. Apparently...hurricane force winds and driving rains are the perfect weather for people to all go out and do their mailing needs. The world was at the post office.

I got in line at 21:21. (The post office is right across the street from the train station, by the way.) At 12:28, when I am next in line, the man behind the window disappears.

12:29.
12:30.
12:31.
The minutes creep by. 12:32 comes and goes, and I am now hoping to catch the 12:46 train.
12:34, he finally comes back, walks up to his window, and sees me approaching it. (The snark in me wants to say, "How was your coffee? Good enough to make me miss my train? But the Christ-in-me kept my mouth shut.) He apparently was about to shut his window when he returned, but looked me up and down in the gross way that turns nearly all women off, gives me a gross smile, and says, "I'll keep my window for you, but I'm shutting it after that."

Gee, thanks.

I hand him my stack of things to be mailed. He just keeps smiling at me. I turn away and glance at the clock. 12:36. Surely we can get this process done in 9 minutes, and I can bolt for the train. Or so one would think.

He slowly counts each post card, all the while smiling at me in the oh-so-creepy way, never actually looking down at the postcards. He finishes and says, "Ten." I point to one he missed, and say, "Eleven, actually." Another creepy grin, and "oh, eleven."

He searches for stamps, and can't find them. He goes to the guy next to him, asks for his book of stamps, and points out that I have blue eyes. (As if they're a rare phenomenon in France or something.) Geez, I just want my stamps and to catch my train.

He then proceeds to tell me that he's going to put the stamps on the postcards for me, and makes this gross licking gesture. (I am reminded of the icky man who did the SAME THING in the UAE.) He recounts the postcards--twice, counts the stamps, and then proceeds to put them on. With each one, he looks up at me and smiles as he pounds the stamp onto the postcards with his fist. I eye the clock. 12:42. Oh.my.word.

He then weighs each of my other items and tells me how much it will cost to mail each one. With each one, I say, "That's fine," not really understanding why he is taking his dear sweet time. As if I'm going to flip out that it costs 2 euros to mail the card I've already written, and refuse to send it over such a ridiculous price. Or as if, time partnered with all his smiles, is going to cause me to fall instantly in love with him, and well...whatever.

I glance at the clock again as he tells me the total with the same oh-so-icky grin. 12:47. Dang it. I've missed another train because Mr. Flirtyson was enthralled with my blue eyes.

I had a true dilema with him. I wanted, on one hand, to be a nice Christian girl and therefore be polite. I wanted, on the other hand, to communicate that I did not want him to flirt with me, especially to cause me to miss TWO trains because of his flirting. Just sell me the stamps, please. As I left the post office, I figured out the answer to today's problem, and the one from the other day at the train station.

There's a machine in the post office that sells stamps--if you have coins. I really just need to start carrying around about 20 euros worth of coins. Then I can avoid these frustrations with the French culture, and my sinful, rude self. Now, if only the ATM machines would give me 20 euros of coins instead of bills...