The SFR 112 - worth every penny
It is said you get what you pay for. My cell phone was free with a prepaid phone card. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised then when the end call button broke, text messages began bouncing back, or when it ultimately died after ceasing to charge - all within 48 hours.
Over the past six weeks I have come to realize the French bureaucracy knows no bounds, and this is in fact the country that would require a receipt for a donut and then file it under ‘D’… for donut (RIP Mitch Hedberg). However, like someone in a dysfunctional relationship, I figured this time would be different; it had to be different. Of course, it wasn’t.
Monday evening my phone finally died after deciding to no longer accept a charge at some point over the weekend. So, I was effectively cut-off from the rest of the world again in my apartment thanks to this turn of events and my intermittent at best Internet service. However, beyond being my phone, this particular item of electronic equipment was also integral to my days in another capacity – as a primary timepiece. This was an especially pertinent fact for workday mornings, as it was my only viable alarm.
That night I slept with my Macbook in sleep mode next to me on the floor so I could open it to look at the time, hopeful I hadn’t overslept with each glance. Tuesday I resolved this wasn’t suitable, especially considering my already fickle sleeping patterns, so I went straight away during lunch to Darty, the Circuit City wannabe where I bought my phone in September.
At Darty I found the returns/exchange counter in the back of the store and in my trademark busted French explained it had stopped charging and I wanted just to exchange it for an exact replacement. The clerk at first seemed capable and understanding but eventually his computer gave some sort of info that required him to ask for the assistance of the returns manager. The two of them spoke rapidly and from what I could gather because the phone was actually issued by SFR, the cellular provider, I had to go to their location to get a replacement. I said, fine, took my SIM card and exchange receipt, left the phone and charger, and tried to remember where the neighborhood SFR was in the 16th arrondisement.
Of course I could not find the SFR and after wandering aimlessly for a while decided I probably ought to head back to work. At the office I looked up the exact location of SFR, it was of course just beyond where I had been, and that night ended up being another exhibition in light sleeping and laptop timekeeping.
The next day I again took lunch to go handle my lack of a phone, going straightaway to the SFR, now knowing exactly where it was. It was a very short visit. Turns out SFR no longer stocks my model, it has been dicontinued because it was defective, but because I bought the phone at Darty, it was not their responsibility to replace the defective model. So back to Darty I went. At least I knew where I was going this time.
At Darty I decided this time to bypass the returns counter and go straight to the cell phone sales staff. I explained my situation to the sales fellow, who could not have been older than 20 –good to know hiring practices in phone sales are universal. He took my paperwork said ok, explained it would be 5 euro to upgrade my phone to the next crappiest model, and took me to the seating area where I originally bought my phone before. I figured this was a sign of progress.
I was joined five minutes later, by an older saleswoman who asked me for my proof of identity. They were trying to sell me a first phone again! This was unacceptable for several reasons:
- I would lose my cell #
- I would need to provide all my documents again; none of which I brought
- I would lose all of the cell minutes credit on my current account
I showed the lady my SIM card and said no I just wanted the exact same phone as I had originally bought, just a working model. It took ten minutes or so for them and another employee to agree this was doable, just long enough for me to regret having handed over my SIM card for fear of not having it returned. Of course in the end I ended up right back at the Darty exchanges counter I had started at 24 hours before, having wasted at least two hours on a wild goose chase. I love France.
~Allo?
You clearly need a Nokia.