Sometimes it's Just Easier to Do As You're Told

Earlier this week, my printer started to malfunction, randomly adding swaths of pink ink throughout each page. While I didn't care about extra pink ink on my recipe for fish cakes, I was concerned about sending in official documents to the Paris bureau of the Chamber of Commerce and Industry (CCI).

In April of this year I applied to launch Steinhaus Business Communication, my own teaching and coaching company. Since submitting the first application forms online, things have turned comical, assuming you find French administrative shenanigans the least bit funny.

While declaring my starting capital, I wrote one euro (the minimum) on one online document and ten euros (a more aggressive proclamation of ''I'm in business!'') on my official company ''constitution'' or charter. Both documents were initially accepted by the CCI, and just as I'd thought I'd successfully submitted all the necessary paperwork, I was asked to clarify the issue of my starting capital.

I replied by email that the correct figure was ten euros.

A few days later, I received a follow-up email instructing me to modify the company constitution to reflect the correct sum, so I dutifully did so.

A few days after that, I was told that my application could not be processed. It seems that when one wishes to modify the company constitution, one has to hold an assembly with company shareholders to approve the modification, record the minutes from the meeting, and submit everything in writing, having initialed each page.

I had to re-read that email because the request from the CCI seemed nonsensical: my company is a SASU, of which the letter ''u'' is most important: it means UNIPERSONNEL. I was essentially being asked to schedule a meeting with myself.

No matter, I did as told, which is to say: I invited myself to attend a meeting to see if I would agree to update the starting capital from one euro to ten euros; established the meeting's agenda (to discuss articles 6, 7, and 23 of my company charter to determine if the starting capital could be switched from one euro to ten euros); conducted the meeting with myself (wherein I had unanimous approval to change the starting capital from one euro to ten euros); and then diligently typed up the meeting minutes, which clearly explained that I held a meeting with myself, discussed the pre-determined agenda, and came to a unanimous decision.

I chuckled softly while writing this document, ever-grateful that sample ''minutes'' are available in French, which allowed me to cut and paste, and wondered how my representative at the Chamber of Commerce could keep a straight face while asking me to carry out the task. In the end, I concluded that he simply didn't see the humor and was only concerned about being able to tick off boxes on his checklist.

After going to an Internet cafe to print the modified constitution and the meeting minutes, (the pink ink seemed like an inappropriate addition, and I was afraid I would have to hold another meeting to justify the decision to submit such creatively-decorated paperwork), I eventually received an email confirming that my modifications had been registered.

Meanwhile, my printer was still ''en panne'' or broken.

A few weeks ago I had a computer virus, and the prognosis was grim until I erased my hard drive and re-installed Windows. This means my printer drivers were lost. When I re-installed the drivers a few weeks later, I accidentally chose the German version. As a result, when I now go to print, I have to choose between four ''Druckereinrichtung'': automatisch, schnelldruck, normal, and beste. I recognized the icons and could print in draft mode with ease (it's ''schnelldruck'' if you find yourself in the same pickle). However, when it came to troubleshooting, I was swimming in a sea of five-syllable German words.

Knowing I wouldn't be able to fix the ink problem on my own, I decided to contact Lexmark USA, having long-ago made the conclusion that whenever possible, seek customer service outside of France. As soon as the Lexmark people learned I was in France, they re-directed me to the French office. I researched the price of a new printer before calling the French office, assuming that that was going to be the end result anyway. 

Quel surpris!

The customer service representative walked me through a manual cleaning of the ''tête d'imprimante'' (the printer head), and requested a few other details. Upon realizing that my printer could not be fixed over the phone, he told me to expect a package from Lexmark within five to ten business days.

Four days later I had a package that included a replacement printer head, and four (4!) replacement cartridges for the black and colored ink. ''They have different service standards because it's an American company,'' I comforted myself, not sure how else to process this efficient and courteous interaction. Or better yet, maybe French companies are learning the importance of improved customer service.

As of today, my printer is fixed, my French taxes have been filed, the fish cakes were made (I recommend  frying them in coconut oil -- c'est délicieux!), and I'm almost ready to start prospecting for new clients.

Bon week-end!