La Coquette

Dear Monsieur Fed Ex, You Suck

Cher Monsieur Fed-Ex,

I understand that maybe you hate your job and all, but was it really necessary to ask my French coworker, with me standing right there, if I speak French? 

Maybe you didn’t notice (although judging from the smirk on your face, I think you did), but not 30 seconds earlier, I had spoken French with you, albeit rather brokenly.  Or maybe you are not habituated to foreigners like me speaking in your native tongue, being that the good portion of them are exempt from trying, what with English being the RULING LANGUAGE OF THE WORLD.

Hey, I’ve got a question, do YOU speak English?  Here’s a better one:  does your MAMA?

Don’t you try me, Mr. Fed-Ex Man.  Not at 9:00am when the effects of coffee have yet to boot up the foreign-language-speaking hard drive of my brain.  I will work you.  I will take you down to Chinatown. 

        And then I’ll get all bilingual on your ass. 

La Coquette

The Rules of the Game

You live somewhere, you have time to get used to things. Eventually, what once shocked and repulsed you can almost become...charming. Take grocery shopping: Dogs sniffing the fresh produce? Adorable! Unrefrigerated eggs in the grocery stores? Neat! Bagging your own groceries? Okay, a big pain in the ass, but you cope.

Customer service, the so-called service clientele, however, remains a TOTAL MYSTERY.

(But, I hear you protesting, what about all the charming little cheese merchants and the knowledgeable purveyors of meat goods? Yeah, yeah, small stores are a wash. Admit it, if you go to a Mom and Pop butcher in the US, the service is usually pretty great too.)

The thing is, Americans understand The Primary Rule of Shopping: