Customer service

I was reminded yesterday of the focus French merchants put on service.

The winning hat.

Paulita and I walked by a clothing store in Cognac that sold Scottish sweaters, warm jackets -- and hats, Stetson hats. I half-heartedly mentioned after passing the store on a previous trip that I thought the hats were cool. "Try one on," Paulita said. Inside, the lone worker, probably the owner, was assisting an elderly couple with a pair of pants. We exchanged bonjours but she continued laser focused on the couple over a pair of pants for the gentleman, who was going back and forth about whether to buy the pants. The owner didn't break away to make sure we stayed put. "We just wait our turn," Paulita explained. So we had fun trying on hats. After 10 or so minutes the couple decided and the purchase was made. Other French customers came in.  An American, I didn't expect the same attention the elderly French couple received. I was wrong. She told the new customers bonjour and came over to us. She spent time explaining the hats' properties, checking sizes (I'm a 61, extra large, or as Paulita put it in French to the woman, "He has a very big head.") The owner had me try on several styles. She and Paulita gave their assessments. With a wince, frown or nod the owner made her opinion clear. It came down to two. I let the owner in on the final vote. She and Paulita picked the one you see here. (It has hidden ear flaps!). At the register the owner  demonstrated how  the hat was "crushable" by rolling it up, then fluffing it and forming the creases. She even rushed to hold the door for us when we left.

With a new hat I, of course, needed a hair cut. We saw a shop, Hollywood Coiff. Only 10 euro, or about $12.50. We went inside, passing through the curtain of beads ala 1970s. The other customers were young guys getting side shaves with mops on top and razor edgings. The stylist was a young guy flashing the razor, both electric and straight varieties. I expected blood spatter at the speed he was going. My turn came and wondered if he would be repulsed by gray hair.

Awaiting the outcome. I have no idea why the drape has a clear plastic insert.

After instructions in French by Paulita (Close on the sides and leave a little more on top) he happily went to work. The guy must have three hands because he was armed with a razor, brush and scissors. I left myself and my arteries in his hands and relaxed like I usually do when I'm in the barber chair. Then out came the straight razor. The guy expertly wielded the blade to trim the edges of my beard. At the end it was one of the best cuts I've had. We handed him a 50 euro bill. He had the next customer, obviously an acquaintance at least, go get change. The guy came back with two 20s and a 10. Paulita handed the stylist a 20 euro bill expecting change for a tip. OK, I thought, the guy will feign not having change so he'll take the 20. "No," he said, he didn't have change for that and took the 10 euro. Like most French business people, he didn't expect a tip, even for 100 percent.

I'd like to say you're in the hands of honorable merchants focused on your needs in France. We'll see if that holds true elsewhere.