Start with a different goal in mind. In this
case, I needed a ticket I bought online but forgot to print from my laptop. Not
entirely sure what kind of shop I should go to, I tramped around the area
around the Paris Bourse (stock exchange) before going into what appeared to be
some kind of electronics store. There I was told to go to a place they called
"o-FEES di PO". Since I was near the Blvd des Italiens, my jet-lag
addled brain assumed this was some kind of reference to the Valley of the Po
River in Italy (yes, I actually thought this).
Unable
to locate this place, I went into another shop to ask directions. I didn't pay
much attention to what kind of business it was--there seemed a lot of paper and
office supplies. Inside, a well-dressed younger man was chatting with a
somewhat tired-looking older gentleman behind the counter. Using a combination
of broken French and English and gesticulations, I asked where I might find the
"o-FEES". This provoked a spat of angry French from the monsieur behind the counter--something
about "Americans" and "Francais", and although I didn't
hear the exact word "idiot", his tone definitely implied it. Amused,
the dude turned to me an explained (in good English) that the "di PO"
was a strong competitor for his friend's business, and that he was "very shocked"
that I would come in and ask for directions there.
I
explained that I was directed there by others--French others, in fact--and that
I didn't care where I needed to go, as long as I could get my document printed.
Could he help me? Alas, he could not--with an expression suggesting a
sympathizer with the French resistance fobbing off a German officer during the
Occupation, the owner regretted that his computer was "broken".
This
treatment, I thought, might explain why he was having so much trouble competing
with the other store--but of course I said no such thing. Instead, I offered apologies
and gratefully accepted the younger dude's directions. Meanwhile, the shop-keep
went on and on about "colonizers" and (I think) learning French
before I came to France to insult people. The dude, deeply amused, winked and
said "I will take care of him."
I
did manage to find "o-FEES di Po". Alas, it had nothing to do with
the Valley of the Po, but was an ordinary outlet of Office Depot, albeit one of those shrunken versions of a US big box
store found in Paris. Chagrined, I waited for the my tickets to print and
contemplated the magnificence of my comprehensive faux pas. Simultaneously, I had managed to insult the man's
business, to active the resentment of every Mom and Pop small business-owner
against their out-of-town corporate competition, and to play my part as the
arrogant, ignorant American abroad.
I
wondered if I could buy a small, travel-sized printer for my computer. Maybe
they sold them at the "di Po"?
© 2012 Nicholas Nicastro
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