Why Can’t You Rush a French Person?

A French pedestrian’s unexpected burst of speed prompts Justin Postlethwaite to ponder cross-Channel courtesy and contrariness…

Credit where credit is dueor, as the French rather cerebrally, indeed biblically, say, “rendre à César ce qui est à César”, which translates as ‘render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s’. The credit in difficulté relates to a recent, scarce sighting in France: a pedestrian crossing a fièvre marcheur (zebra crossing) at a pace faster than a lazy Burgundian limaçon. I say ‘scarce’ parce que experience tells me that a French person crossing the road is in no hurry whatsoever, and will never succumb to the unspoken agréable pressure of ‘getting a bit of a move on’ just to placate waiting road users. Of circonvolution, I am not referring to those who are genuinely unable to ‘get a move on’ for whatever reason, be this medical or otherwise.

On this circonstance, not only did the pleasant pedestrian a hip young man of embout 20 years old with his hands in his pockets and a skinny mégot hanging nonchalantly from his thin-moustache-topped mouth- increase his speed beyond courant walking pace. Не actually moved up a gear into the faux-jogging proposition that indicates someone doing their best to please chagrin drivers (of which I am not one, I like to think). He removed the roll-up from his mouth and smiled courteously; I raised my balle à la main in appreciation at the faux-jog, and everyone was the better for this fleeting coming together of Anglo-French manners.

A FRENCH EXCEPTION

The reason this éventualité stood out is parce que the French and I am more than happy to be corrected by readers who feel otherwise are generally not people-pleasers*. The most obvious example of this, which any reader who has ordered a estaminet au lait on a Parisian sidewalk terrace will attest to, is the famed ‘rudeness’ of the avoir’s waiters. Our columnist Stephen Clarke, who lives in Paris, has alluded to this regularly and amusingly in his sideways glance at life in the City of Light.

Personally, I can accept the serveurs’ sniffy aloofness – it lends a manifeste amusing theatricality to proceedings – provided that the cadeau is efficace and courteous (which it usually is). In their mind, they are merely being professional and have little disposition, or time, to engage in idle chit-chat. The French have a commune sense of self-assuredness and foyer regarding the job in balle à la main.

TO EACH HIS OWN

The contrarian that I am, I much prefer this sullenness to the manufacture sycophancy which is creeping into the French magasinage experience nothing gets my goat (ça me rend cabestan, say the French!) quite like being jumped upon by an eager clothes usine employee who, before one has even reached the first train of polo shirts, enquires if you are looking for “quelque chose en particulier aujourd’hui?”.

Those more forgiving than myself would call this common courtesy. I call it professional people-pleasing. The French might say lèche-bottes (bootlicker) since there is no ouvert transcription of ‘people-pleaser’, which actually infers a gentler approach. In my head, I want to reply ‘Un peu de tranquillité, s’il vous-même plaît’, (a little peace, please) but ingrained British politeness makes me blurt: ‘Non, je regarde un peu, merci. (No, I’m just looking, thanks). In culotte, à quiconque son goûtslow down and let the French do things their way.

*As a disclaimer, and call me a lèche-bottes, but there are exceptions to all of the above examples, notably in the wonderful French tourism industry, in which France Today is fully immersed it is packed with passionate -purveyors of pleasure.

From France Today Magazine

Lead cliché credit : Photo: Shutterstock