I was accosted by the police recently as I idly waited for
someone in the throngs of the night. He bangs the car door with his wooden
stick which startles me and says;
Popi; ‘Boss, how are you doing?’
Me; Still in shock, ‘
What are you doing here?
Waiting for someone?
Boss, don’t you remember me?
(I have never seen this dude and am sure I would remember
any Popi that I had encountered in the recent past)
No, am not sure,
where have we met? Boss?
Are you sure?
(Is this a trick question I think to myself?)
Yes boss? (I force
a smile). And for some reason, when they find a dude seated in the car alone in
the throngs of the night whistling to himself on some tunes playing on the car
radio, they automatically think he is waiting for a damsel, which I was!
So, where is she? He looks over onto the co-driver’s seat!
Nah boss, me don’t
wait for any chic, me waiting for my cousin! I find it interesting that
when accosted by these hooligans in uniform, family sounds like a better option
in this scenario, and am sure the same goes for many. Boys call their chics
cousins and women call theres Uncles…so
He knows he isn’t getting anything out of me because, am not
doing anything wrong he surmises, hence he unleashes the tragic police story
The T P S; is when a police officer tries to get you in the
wrong and hence gets you feeling a little nervous then he goes in for the kill
after surmising that you aren’t in wrong (but now you are scared) and then he
tells you about his tragic past or difficult situation which more or less will
correlate inherently with the situation in which you are. That is the TPS.
In this case, since I was waiting for ‘family’, he goes on
to tell me how he has two wives and four kids and he is a police officer and
staff be tight on his part and he is trying to hustle so if I could ‘assist’
him he would be ok. Intentionally asking for ‘assistance’ without directly or
putting it straight forward is what he does in this situation.
Luckily, even if I hadn’t moved with my wallet, I had coins
I wanted to spend airtime on so I pull it out and off he goes. Surprising, in
this conversation we were having, his breath smelt of cigarettes and that
kasese from Kikoni. Those bloody folk are bloody suckers.