I got there with my credit card I used and all of the reservation codes for all of my tickets. I was ready. Zee man was most definitely french so I could revert back to a language I semi-know and get my tickets and leave.
But of course there's a problem. Apparently one of my reservetion codes (trip from Paris to Strasbourg) could not actually exist. This disturbed me because I made a special effort to write them down to make sure they were correct. I actually wrote them down, checked them three times and then went on the website to check them again, as this has happened to us before where we had the wrong code. This number had an actual digit in it rather than all letters, which made it, in his eyes, completely impossible to exist.
I told him I know that is the number so he should just try and see if it worked. But he refused. So instead of working with me, he just printed off my other tickets and assumed I didn't want the other ticket because it didn't exist. I asked him, extremely politely as Jean-Marie had trained me to do, if we could check my sncf acct so I could show him the ticket. But instead he kept writing my name in the box for locations and
"surprisingly" came up with nothing over and over again. So them he asked me to log onto my email acct so I could show him this impossible reservation code from an email he reassured me, didn't exist. So I sat as his desk and logged onto gmail. I found all three reservations and voila, the code with a digit! He was completely shocked.
But if you think he just apologized and printed my ticket, you must be using your non-
French logic. Instead he called someone to let them know about this mishap and to please correct the restrvation code because it was just too wrong for him to work with. Then, he asked ME to fill out paperwork with MY issue (i.e. the impossible reservation code) which he then stamped, crimped and stapled it in a fancy way so that it was officially my complaint. Then he proceeded to let me know that I chose to print my ticket rather than pick it up so he couldn't help me. I told him that I chose it because it was my only option, and if he looked, he would see that it would be his only option too. So of course he checked and once again, something that he thought was impossible was miraculously possible, so he made me write another complaint about this problem.
He then printed my ticket for me and soon after, became the most pleasant man I have encountered that morning. He asked me for the reason for the short trip so I told him our complicated lives about sort of still living in Strasbourg while sort of now living in Köln, which gave him the opening to complain about having to deal with Germans on a daily basis who didn't speak french or eat real baguettes.
There are times when I miss France. This was not one of them.
3 comments:
Oh my god this made me laugh so hard, this is so typical! It's either: "it doesn't exist" or "it's impossible."
Your heroic and fearless exploits with French bureaucracy continue to astound me and inspire me. I laughed so much when I read this post and once again was delighted to learn that I (and my daughter who is finishing up her year at Marc Bloch) have not been the only ones to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous 'customer service' in la belle France. Back in the 80's when my wife and I were studying at the University Aix Marseille, we had many of the same experiences that you have recounted. The SNCF was certainly was one of the worst offenders - at one point, I clearly remember a sneering customer agent blowing smoke in our faces (he was smoking while working of course) as he grudingly accepted lots of money from us for a ticket to Paris.
Ah the memories! All the best to you and Axel. May the force be with you.
Andrew from Montreal
Heroic isn't the right word Andrew, it's survival! I hate to post these stories because I truly love France! But it's situations like these which make you realize that even paradise has chinks in its armour.
I hope your daughter had a fabulous time in Strasbourg!
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