E-commerce, French style
Ask any french person what Ebay is, and they will stare at you blankly. Tell them you buy most of your electronics on line, and they will start backing away, since you are clearly a "Fou". E-commerce, a half decade after the dot com implosion, never got off the ground here, and plays a much less dominant role than in the US. In some ways this is good; I like going down to the Guy Degrenne store and looking at their beautiful cookware, and its clearly way better than buying online. HOWEVER, today I was reminded of just how backwards things can be.
A few weeks ago, we received a "taxe d'habitation". This tax is levied upon the occupant (even if he or she is the owner) of an apartment or house. The method with which it is calculated is the result of a complicated formula which takes into account the living area, number of windows, bathrooms, exposure and other attributes. In the end, you have an index that increases with the agreableness of your apartment. This fact in itself is amusing to me because it is wonderfully emblematic of french bureaucracy: not content to stop at "floor space", they have spent countless man hours coming up with a ridiculous formula, which then requires an even more ponderous bureaucracy, which is ultimately paid for by the end user. Anyway, we, or rather I, got this bill for almost $1000 US, itemized with hundreds of little things that I couldn't possibly comprehend. On the bill, in fine print was the text: "You can pay your taxe d'habitation" on the internet at www.impots.gouv.fr. I went to the website, expecting it to ask for my bank card, but instead was confronted with about 6 text fields for various banking items. I sheepishly put my card away, feeling a little bewildered, and Chloe found the numbers from my checkbook. I then tunnelled through a maddening series of pages which can only be desrcribed as the absolute worst kind of prefecture-esque french bureaucracy squeezed into a put-your-fist-through-the-LCD UI. Each time I had to confirm I wondered how many thousands of dollars it was going to extract with each click. At the end of this journey, it asked me for an email address (presumeably for the receipt) or a mailing address. I selected both, clicked "confirmer" a few more times, and closed the window. Magically, a few seconds later (A fact I'm sure they are very proud of), I received an email from the tax office containing not a receipt, but a PDF THAT I AM EXPECTED TO PRINT OUT AND MAIL TO THE BANK TELLING THEM TO PAY THE TAX BUREAU. Et Voila: E-commerce, french style.
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