I Hate the French
So maybe I don’t really hate the French but they hate me. I received a request for a fairly important meeting on my 2nd to last day in Brussels and I was going to do everything I could to make sure that I could join in. I asked the front desk if there was a phone house where I could make inexpensive international calls from and she pointed me to a street on the map. In usual fashion, she didn’t know exactly where it was but just that it was in this area.
On the way to that area I passed a mobile phone dealer and made a mental note of where it was in case I needed them later. I actually found the phone house but they were closed. The hours posted on the door said that they should indeed be open at the moment but the door was locked. It wasn’t good enough to trust these people with my meeting so I headed back to the mobile phone dealer.
I could see someone bending behind the counter and said “Hello” a few times but received no response. As soon as a said “Bon Jour” he stood up with a smile. Goodie.
I explained to him (in English) that I needed a prepaid SIM card that will allow me to call the USA. He responded in French. I explained that I don’t speak French so he then mumbled and translated in English for me. Essentially he told me that this one would work and it would be around 15 to 50 cents a minute, he wasn’t sure. When I asked him to find out he asked me why. I told him that I would need to know or else I wasn’t going to purchase anything. He then said something in French and fired up his computer.
He pulled up the website and turned the monitor around so I could read the rates. They were in French so I asked him to click on the picture of the English flag so I could read them. He just said something in French and pointed to the rate of 0,12 per minute. I asked him what the rate below of 2,49 per minute was and he said something in French. When I asked him to explain in English he just waved his hands while he said the same thing in French.
His cell phone rang and he took the call which is good because we both needed a break. I think I figured out that the higher rate was if I physically left the country of Belgium and wanted to use the phone.
He had been talking on the phone and laughing for about 10 minutes when he pointed at the SIM card and asked if I wanted it. At least that’s what I think he said because it was in French. I acknowledged that I would take it and pulled out my best friend, American Express to pay for it as I didn’t really trust the guy. He shook his head and said in perfect English “Cash only for this purchase.” I pointed to the American Express sign on the counter and replied in perfect English “But you say right here that you accept American Express.” He shook his head again and I handed him cash.
On my way out he was still chatting on the phone so I took note of the store name and address. I called American Express collect from the next pay phone I found and let them know that there was a merchant who was displaying their logo but refused to accept my card. They apologize and chucked a few thousand reward points my way before they assured me that they would look into his account so that no other card holders are put into the same situation.
You would think that the French would be content enough to be pissy in just their own country.
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