Policeman Slapped with a Croissant Fine

Maybe he had had a late night with a new girlfriend. Maybe he suffers from wretched insomnia. Maybe he was caught in a stunning, Nairobi-like traffic jam. Maybe the explanation is more mundane: his alarm clock didn’t go off. Whatever the case, here he is at the bakery, with a contrite demeanour and flanked by two grim colleagues with no-nonsense body language. This seems to be some kind of perp walk, without the media. The baker, packing lots and lots of croissants into paper bags, is also trying to understand what is going on. “C’est pour un anniversaire?” he ventures tentatively. Are the croissants for a birthday party? Grim-faced female cop barks (kind of): “Non. Il est arrivé en retard.” No, he reported to work late.

Ah.

The perhaps insomnia-suffering or alarm-clock failure or new-girlfriend’s-fault cop bows his head (kind of) and has the decency to look embarrassed. I catch his sheepish eye, incredulous. “Ah bon?” Really? “Nooon!” the baker echoes, also with incredulity. We are gratified with an acquiescence of the head, accompanied by a smile. This perp walk cannot be too bad. In a few weeks’ time, he will probably be one of the Grim Flankers, but today, it’s his day to look bashful. The other flanker, male, turns to me. “Late-comers must pay for their tardiness.” He sounds like he is giving orders. “No excuses.” An implacable face. No smile.

Sheesh!

Perp-walk cop pays for the twenty-and-more croissants. Grim Flankers help him carry the four white paper bags. The three walk out of the bakery and disappear round the corner. The baker and I share a mirthful laugh.

Now when I think about it, I suspect we were not the ones who laughed last and loudest. If one had followed the three cops to the station, one would probably have heard of the tale of this baker and one customer with the disbelieving looks and open mouths. Non! Ah bon? We really got them, didn’t we?

(Weaving alongside Wambui Mwangi)