I looked at my receipt: €86.20.
A bit high for a grocery run. But I did stock back up on soap, toothpaste, olive oil, tea, and cheese, after having let my stocks slide to nothingness these past few weeks. And I also had recharged my phone for the next few weeks. Still, €86.20 was a bit high.
The groceries for the next person in line started sliding down towards my sacks. I had to go.
After the one kilometer walk back home, I looked at the receipt again. The cashier has scanned multiple items twice! It was wrong!
I stormed back to Monoprix, preparing an angry diatribe for the cashier and the manager as I went. "In civilized countries...this is unacceptable...it's bad enough I have to..." Having a decent familiarity with French service, I feared for the rest of my evening. Would I get my money back? Would I get my evening back?
I walked straight up to the cashier (well actually I missed her the first time, so I had to double back, but that's beside the point) and I thrust the receipt in her direction, saying "Bonsoir" in a remarkably amiable fashion.
"Oh," she said, "just go to the welcome desk and they'll take care of you."
So I walked up to the welcome desk with the same determination and strength of purpose. I prepared my lines again. But no, the attendant was on the phone. Ah ha! Taking long personal calls on company time! Not the first time I had seen that in France.
Oh no, it was a customer. Never mind.
I showed her the receipt and explained the problem. I was about to begin on the philosophical principle that it is unjust to pay for items you do not receive nor want. I was going to explain that even if the French aren't big fans of capitalism, it's only fair, since they've accepted the system in practice. I was going to...
"May I have your debit card sir?'
I pulled it out.
She scanned it.
A new receipt with the correct amount came out.
"There you go."
"Ok...thanks. Good evening."
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