Paris For One Year: Shoulda, coulda, woulda . . .

A visit from some of our favorite people, Barcelona, and turning 17 in Paris. But first, this happened . . .

Last year, I was on an “American living in Paris memoir” reading binge. Obviously, we’re not the first people to do this, so there are tons of books out there. However, my favorite was Paris, I Love You, But You're Bringing Me Down, by a guy named Rosecrans Baldwin.

When I read the reviews, the people that disliked it, felt he was a privileged guy complaining about something most people only dream about. The people that loved the book had generally all spent some time living abroad, navigating real life in a city where you don’t speak the language. I reference the book here (other then recommending it as a really good read) to acknowledge that I don't have the same challenges Rosecrans Baldwin had. However, I do have my moments. And I might as well write about them.

Giverny. The pictures say it all I think.

For example, this week I received a letter from a collections agency. Basically, it said they will use all means legally available to take me down if I don’t pay a 69 euro bill for a service I never received.

A little background first. Upon renting our current apartment here, we were going to sign up with a local cable provider. We ordered the box and set up an appointment for the installation. But then, our landlords decided to keep the service they already had and just bill us for our usage. This was exactly what we were doing with our own renters, so it made sense to us. The lovely Samara (our concierge, mentioned in previous posts), promptly cancelled our cable appointment and returned the box. Still, a month later I receive a bill from the cable company for 69 euros.

A "selfie" at The Dry Martini Bar, in Barcelona.

I had high hopes that this error would resolve itself, as I'd just had a positive experience with customer service in France. We had recently picked up a box shipment from the UPS depot, after paying a 128 euros customs fee. A week later, I received a bill from UPS for 128 euros. I’d just gotten my new French phone number, so I call their customer service. I try my best to get a human, but fail. I’ve not told Jim this, but I made the executive decision to just pay the damn thing and be done with it. I chalked it up to one of the overall costs of this adventure we’re on. A mere two days later, UPS sends me back the check with a nice letter saying I’ve paid twice.

So, I was optimistic that the bill from the cable company might go away on its own. What I should have learned is just to pay whatever they tell you to, right or wrong, and fix it later.

Another month goes by and I get a second bill from the cable company. The little voice in my head says, “just pay it, make it go away”, but I don’t. Samara calls the cable company to explain the error (because they only speak French). No worries, they will make the correction, she’s told. Another month, another invoice, two more calls from Samara. Each time, the person on the other end of the phone telling her it’s been taken care of. Then, last week, I get the above mentioned letter from the collection agency.

A wine tasting dinner with some French, a Swede, a Canadian, and us!

I’ve always been a relatively good girl. When I was five, I stuck my tongue out at a girl who threw sand in my little brother’s face. My mother only saw the tongue incident and punished me for it. To this day, she is still puzzled as to why I never told her that I was defending my brother. I’ve never been that woman who leaves her car in the pick-up line at school because “I’ll only be gone a quick sec” (no judgement). That whole theory of “it’s easier to ask for forgiveness then permission”? I can’t even. The words “collection agency” don't sit well with me. So this letter freaks me out. I tell Jim I’m just going to pay the fucking thing.

For the record, in our relationship, I deal with all the paperwork minutia crap that it takes to keep our little household running. I like it. It works for us. I don’t really involve Jim in the details, because they make his eyes glaze over. Plus, he makes dinner, so we're more then even. So, when I stated I was going to just pay this bill for a service we hadn’t received, he didn’t know any of the backstory. He just saw that I was upset and tried to make a helpful suggestion. I didn’t respond particularly well. Poor guy.

Happy 17th to my beautiful daughter - who left shortly after this was taken, to begin her evening at 10pm.

Samara calls again and talks to someone higher up on the cable company food chain. They confirm (again) that I certainly don’t owe any money, but that any cancellation of service must be made in writing. Just send a letter and that should do it. Samara overnights a letter to them. The next day, I get a follow-up scary letter from the collection folks, threatening all sorts of torture on me if I don’t pay 69 euros.

Random Paris Scenes: firefighters on their morning run, lady in red smoking on her terrace, a really wonderful wine bar and a "Je Suis Charlie" tag near our local market.

Samara calls the cable company again and they assure her that they’ve notified the collection agency that the debt is a mistake. The letters probably just crossed in the mail. Samara asks for some sort of documentation to this effect, but is told, that since I’m not a customer, this is not possible. However, they give her an email address to another person in the cable company, and that person can send some sort of confirmation to me.

Samara composes a request in French for me to send. I send the email and it gets kicked back. Samara scours the cable company website for a better email address. I try again and that gets kicked back too. She finally fills out a form on their website with our request, but who knows where that ended up. That was on Friday.

Barcelona!

Today is Monday. We still have no documentation from the cable company. Samara and team have admitted defeat, or perhaps they sense I wouldn’t do particularly well in a French prison. Also, that outcome wouldn’t do much for their company’s marketing efforts.

They suggest I just pay the 69 euros at this point. Theorizing that it is less dangerous to deal with a cable company then a collections agency. So, today I paid the 69 euros, which I should have just done in the first place. Lesson learned. Shoulda, coulda, woulda.

Just before we received the collections agency letter, we learned that our apartment lease won’t be renewed for the second six months of our stay. I am optimistic a few stories will result from this. Please stay tuned.

á bientôt