Reflections on France (part 4): "Customer Service?"

I was hesitant to include this post in the "Reflections on France" series as I feel its almost so common knowledge...or at least "common stereotype." However, omitting this would leave a noteworthy hole in the cumulative experience of French culture and what it's like living in France, especially as an ex-patriot...especially for an American.

While the literal translation of customer service is "service clientèle," I am nearly certain there exists no actual word to describe either the concept or overall meaning that many other cultures associate with it. And why should it? Language is a living, changing thing that adapts readily to the needs of the people who use it. Where a concept doesn't exist, it logically follows there is no need for vocabulary to describe it. For the French, it is here in this functional void I believe the notion of true customer service can be found.

I have to catch myself when thinking about this for fear of falling victim to the default ethnocentric viewpoint we all subconsciously return to. That said, the only way to really look at the French way of life in this regard is to accept it as a wholly different paradigm. The language is distinctly different; why shouldn't norms, values, and customs be at least equally disparate? In France, more often than not it appears, the customer is not outwardly valued and nowhere is this more overtly demonstrated than in the hospitality industry. Restaurants suffer from this most noticeably.
As a brief example, a typical diner out at an average priced restaurant might go something like this: You arrive and are seated by the host. When twenty minutes have elapsed, a waiter comes by to take your drink order, in which time you may or may not have a menu, and you most certainly do not have any table water. Twenty minutes after the waiter disappears your drinks arrive and you most likely order your meal. The wait between order and service is the only real commonality between French restaurant service and that in most other places, however, somehow finds a way to be exaggerated in France. If more than one course is ordered there is approximately a 50% chance they will be served simultaneously. Upon finishing the meal you can expect to spend another half hour talking over your empty plates until the waiter returns and inquires about dessert. If you order dessert, repeat the experience you've had with the entrée. If, God forbid, you decline and just ask for the check, you may be forced to imagine them growing the trees in the back of the kitchen for the paper on which the bill is printed.

Here I remind myself that the ritual of dining in France is very different to that with which I'm most accustomed. For the French, like many Europeans, meals are thought of as more a journey and experience than they are in the States. Nevertheless, it was one of the few things that, throughout the duration of my four-month-plus stay, I could never get used to. While appreciating the change of pace and the additional subtle pleasures derived there within, I usually found myself distracted from truly enjoying the experience. The reason? As the customer I felt no degree of control over my experience whatsoever. While I was the one paying for the service/experience, the service element was conspicuously non-existent.

Passé sales catch phrases like, "the customer is always right," (whose out-dated sentiments we know are simply not true) aside, there is something to be said for at least pretending as if you value the customer and their business. Perhaps I'm particularly aware of this trend having worked in the hospitality industry most of my young adult life, specifically within fine dining. Nonetheless, despite the many elements of French and otherwise European culture I love and find very appealing, real customer service is a luxury, too often taken for granted, which I truly appreciate about the US.