The Curious Case of French Service

I pushed the button to request to enter the Societé Générale branch. No response.

"Oh, it's closed between 1 PM and 2 PM," I noticed.

When I returned, the woman at the nearest desk buzzed me in. I stepped inside. The woman was on the telephone. She made no effort to recognize my presence. I looked around. There were three other offices with three other employees. None of them came to greet me either.

I looked around again. Nothing changed. Still no response from any of the bank employees. Fortunately, I had lived in several developing countries. So I was used to similar service. I wondered if they were trying to put me in my place before requesting a bribe too. It's doubtful, I thought.

I waited.

A few minutes later a tall man with jet black hair walked out of one of the offices. "Bonjour."

"Bonjour," I replied. "I will need to open a bank account soon, and I just wanted to find out what documents are necessary."

"So you would like to make an appointment?"

Truth be told, I was really just hoping that he could give me a brochure with all the details about opening an account, the types of account, and their limitations. That sort of thing.

"Uh, I just need a few pieces of information."

At that point another man walked out of his office and approached us. Things were improving. I was going from absolutely no attention from the bank's staff to attention from half of their employees.

He shook hands with me and then said, "Vous voulez vous renseigner?" ("You want to get some information?")

I replied in the affirmative.

Not saying another word, he just turned toward his office and put out his hand. Apparently he wanted to discuss in private the secretive workings of opening a bank account. I walked in and sat down. The terse man followed, very, very slowly entering the office, closing the door, ambling around his desk, and sitting down.

When he had finally accomplished those tasks, he folded his hands together and said, "Tell me your situation."

I repeated the exact two sentence summary of my situation I had given his co-worker.

He seemed confused. He posed a serious of questions. Yes, I may possibly want to open a bank account here. No, my office will be in the 13th, not in the 15th. Yes, I was living near here. No, I might open the account there. (I had thought that even if I didn't open an account with this branch, he might be interested in helping another branch of his company get my business. And perhaps naively, I was still hoping for that brochure.)

When he finally concluded that I might possibly be a worthy candidate for a bank account, he proceeded to explain, at an auctioneer's clip, the five pieces of documentation needed. I have a pretty good memory, but unfortunately I couldn't retain that much information at that pace. I looked around. No brochure in sight. I did see some note paper next to the computer.

I asked if he could write down the required documentation for me. He took one of the Post-it-sized gray pieces of paper and handed it to me. He then repeated the list at the same pace. After two or three requests for repetition, I finally had all the information down.

I thanked him and got up to leave. He also stood up and calmly strolled around to my side of the desk and shook my hand as silently as he had asked me to enter his office.

"Have a nice day," I said, leaving the office. A lifeless reply wafted back from his general area.

I left the office brochure-less but possessing the desired information. Stepping out the door and onto the street, I thought to myself, "Fascinating. This is how French banks attempt to attract and maintain clients."