Dennis & Aimee's Big Gay Paris Adventure

In which you get to play along and experience the fun French adventure!

Step 1. Try to get help from the website in advance, so you aren't so dumb when you go in. Give it a try!

http://www.laposte.fr

Step 2. There, wasn't that easy? Now that you've learned advanced French, surely you know exactly what to do. Wait. You say you don't know French? Oh, well then just use the Google Language Tools to translate the page. Here, try it! Just go to Google.com and click on "language tools" to the right of the search box. That thing makes living in a foreign country so much easier...

Oh... Wait. The French Postal Service website just doesn't translate. Not a word of it. Hmm. Nevermind.

Step 3. Ok, so, surely there are other expats who have done this, and sites that tell you what to do. Just do a search. Hmm. This page gives amounts in French Franks. Haven't the French been using Euros for quite some time? Let's keep looking... This other page says that the French Postal Service isn't the worst in the EEC, it's only #10. That means there are two that are even worse, so see, it can't be that bad.

Step 4. Now that you've studied the postal service from all angles, it appears that the shipment you've already packaged isn't going to work. You see, they prefer for you to send shipments in THEIR boxes, not YOUR boxes. Don't ask why, because you don't really care anymore. Really, you just want to send these presents you've spent weeks with French Merchants to procure.

Step 5. Might as well just march in there and get some boxes, eh? Oh, the boxes come in several sizes, and they're post-paid. Did you want to send that to the Amérique-Asie-Océanie region? Is that a REGION? Gosh, I thought that was PRETTY MUCH EVERYWHERE BUT EUROPE. Oh. Sorry, it's all about being calm and polite.

Step 6. "What kind of forms do you want with that box?" I'm translating from the French for you here. I can see I'm losing you... Here, just take these two -- they're what everyone else asks for.

Step 7. Whew. This is the fun step. You don't have to talk to anyone, you just have to tear open the boxes you've already packed, and re-pack the gifts into the La Poste boxes.

Step 8. Yes, I know it doesn't all fit, but we've already paid for the boxes. So. Tough.

Step 9. I guess they're not getting that part of their gift, eh?

Step 10. Ok, let's fill out the... "God Damn! They're in FRENCH too!"

Step 11. Where you Google again, this time for instructions in English.

Step 12. Might as well just start translating all of the words you don't know.

Step 13. Ok, so this whole section is only for use by commercial enterprises. Check.

Step 14. Wait. It's 6:50. The post office is about to close. I'm nowhere near done.

Step 15. They have a 24-hour post office in paris? *sigh*

Step 16. I think the forms are right. it's 7:45 now.

Step 17. How am I going to take these three boxes on the metro four stops, and then half a mile?

Step 18. In which you rig up a plastic bag contraption for each box, in order to lug it to La Poste. (Such a chipper name for such a dreadful place.)

Step 19. Who would have thought there'd be such a line at 8:30p?

Step 20. No. Lady. You can't butt in. Sorry. NO. I don't care that you have just one envelope. Get in line! (I think she can read all of that in my eyes, because all I said was "Je ne comprends pas.")

Step 21. Look, you're at the window with your boxes and forms! That wasn't so hard, was it? Ok, now. This should be an easy transaction. "Bon soir, monsieur. Si'l vous plait, parlez-vous Anglais?"

Step 22. "Non."

Step 23. (My favorite step.) "Hi. Do you need some help?" (This from the REALLY nice man at the next window, suffering through his own zen lesson at La Poste.) "Oh, yes, please!" (This from the desperate American girl nearing the end of her otherwise very robust rope.) The helpful stranger says no more than 6 words to the man behind the counter. He probably said "Help her, you heartless bastard." Ok, maybe he just said "She wants to send these, the forms are complete."

Step 24. The nice man behind the bulletproof glass watches as you pile your forms and packages into the plexiglas lazy susan. Once you're finished, he turns it around toward his side of the counter, and starts wordlessly processing your forms, stamping and sticking and just having a jolly old time. When each package is complete and stickered, he gives you your copy of the form and says "Voila!"

Step 25. Three stamped forms in hand, and having profusely thanked the man behind the counter who would barely look at you before some nice man came to speak 6 magical words of French to him, you step to the next counter and smile at the man who offered his help freely, and thank him. And you mean it. Thanks to people like him, we get through each day.

With love from our favorite bureaucracy, and wishing you the most stress-free shipping,

--Aimee