The boulangerie

   Right after we moved into our apartment, a new bakery opened up down the street.  They opened up in August, right as everything else closed for vacation, and they were initially open every day of the week, the better to serve the neighborhood.  They were great, offering reduced-price baguettes, free samples of things we weren't buying, throwing in extras of things we did buy, and offering tastes of items that my kids were curious about.  They also were extremely solicitous of our family (and, I assume, everyone else), apologizing if we had to wait for the bread to come out of the oven or if there was a line of customers.  I explained to my kids that this was fairly unusual as a method of doing business in France, but that people tend to be loyal to their local merchants, as they have a personal relationship with them, so if one decides to open up a new bakery, the best way to get people to change their loyalty to you would be to offer them a better alternative, especially during vacation when nothing else is open.  (Also, their bread is delicious, as are their cakes and cookies.) 
     It has become "our" boulangerie not only because it's close and they are friendly but because their bread is excellent.
    I had mostly forgotten this conversation until this past week.  I've been occasionally giving my two oldest daughters a little bit of change so that they can grab a sucker or small treat after school gets out.  On Friday, I knew I'd be home late, and I suggested to my daughter that she and her sister grab a baguette after they get off the bus, so that they would have some bread in case I was later than planned.  I added that, if they didn't want to make two stops, they could just buy a baguette at the bakery that's right by school, the one where they buy their small treats.  She said, "No, I would really rather go to OUR bakery."  She thought just a second and said, "Hey, that's like what you said about having a special relationship with your baker.  We do now!  I'd rather go two places than buy bread from someone who isn't MY baker.  That's kind of cool."

Waiting at the bank

     Today I made a second trip to a local branch of HSBC.  I've been there once before to sign the papers to open my account, but this time, I needed to pick up my debit card and give them a signed paper that would authorize the deduction of my rent payments from my account.
      The bus stop is nearly directly in front of the bank and when it dropped me off, my watch read 2 pm, but I could see that three employees were waiting in front of the bank and at least one was smoking a cigarette.  Since the bank is supposed to re-open at 2 pm, I figured that my watch might be fast.  Rather than stand and look as if I was trying to speed them up, I took a few minutes and went into a nearby supermarket and bought some small things that I needed.
      I took my time, but when I got done, my watch read 2:15 and the employees were still outside.  I mentally shrugged and went across the street.  When I got there, they apologized profusely and said that there was something wrong with the electronic opener on the door, so we were all locked out.  They said it might be an hour and did I have any shopping to do instead?
      Since buying a pencil sharpener and a birthday candle for Molly had already been more than I was planning on doing, and I didn't have a grocery sack with me, I didn't really want to go do any shopping, so I told them that it was fine and I was willing to wait. 
     This bothered them, so the supervisor got on the phone and called whomever was supposed to be bringing the physical key over, to ask how long it would be.  Eventually, they agreed on 15 minutes.  While that 15 minutes passed, I chatted a bit with the employees -- who were very kind -- and they checked my paperwork and discussed whether or not they thought that my debit card was in fact available in the branch.  (It was.)   They kept peppering the conversation with apologies for how long it was taking, especially as, at the 15 minute mark, the man bringing the key called and said it would be ten more minutes.
     I observed that even if my debit card turned out to not be in the branch, I'd waited at the mairie for much longer than 30 minutes for what ultimately turned out to be a fruitless search.  That didn't seem to make them feel any better.  They told me that this is the first time it's happened with the door in 13 years (which would seem to demonstrate that they shouldn't feel bad at all about it!), that he would be there soon, that they were very sorry.
    All in all, I was surprised that they were so concerned about my half hour wait; it's not the kind of attitude I would have expected.

Is it a gift?

Another of today's errands was to buy a birthday present for one of my nieces.  Right by the mobile phone store, I knew there was a shop with funky clothes and jewelry, and I was pretty sure that I could find something that would appeal to her taste.  Not only did I find some things I think she'll like, but I got to answer in the affirmative to the question: "Is is a gift?"

You see, even when it's not a gift, even when it's just something for me, I'm always tempted to say that it is a gift.  Why?  Because one of my favorite things about French shops is the way that they wrap gifts.  They take paper and cellophane and maybe a little bit of string and a staple or two.  They twist it and fold it and: voilà!  A perfectly lovely cadeau.

You'll have to take my word for it, but inside this sack is another sack and a small package, each with their own ribbon and decoration, each one folded just so.

And since almost every American is probably wondering:  no, they don't charge extra for that.  It's just part of the service when you buy from a neighborhood store.

Business, Lyon-style

In Lyon, stores tend to be closed Sunday and Monday.  That means that Tuesday marks the first day of business after a couple of days off -- and more businesses take days off here than in the United States, especially during school holidays.  So, come Tuesday, the market at Croix Rousse is extra busy (and has extra vendors), stores have longer lines, and everyone has more business to conduct.   Like everyone else, I'd saved up a number of errands for today. 

My first stop was the mobile phone store.  There was one guy working the store when I arrived, and there were already three people in line.  Rather than get impatient, I just made a good mental note of who seemed to be last -- and who was already there, so I knew my place in line -- and settled in for a wait.  Soon after I walked in, another woman came in.  Then soon after, another man, and another woman.  The man serving customers had made it through one person, so the queue was getting quite long.  Eventually, he walked to the back of the store and called for some additional support -- but not with any real urgency.  By then, I was the next person due to be helped.  When the woman came out and asked me what I needed and I told her (a mobile phone with minutes, as I'm getting an extra one to have on hand for when my husband/kids arrive), she shrugged and looked at the line of people and said, "Does anyone in line have anything quick?"  She then gave a few examples of "quick" business (things that didn't involve starting a new line!), but no one took her up on it.  Once she was satisfied that it was actually my turn, she gave me her full attention.

At that point, I'd probably already been waiting about 20 minutes.  If someone had stepped forward, it wouldn't have been a problem for me, but I can imagine how frustated someone in the US might be if, at the open of business, a line of 8 people was piling up and the store didn't have enough service people on hand to deal with them quickly or skipped across the line of people!