then posh spice got on my tram

Posted on Posted in and the mome raths outgrabe, journal, that old curveball

Internets, let me tell you about my morning. Because do you know what happened this morning? The world got its crazy on, that's what happened.

Hands up who remembers Mr LOOK! BALLOONS!?

I've seen him around a couple of times since that apparently alarmingly magical morning. He's never been quite so enthused since, and I've always been busy, so mostly we've just wandered past each other with an acknowledging nod or smile. Personally, I've been quietly of the opinion that he's a habitual drug user and gets mildly, amusingly, loopy in the process.

Um … yeah, maybe not quite.

This morning I walked out my front door — shaking my head and wondering what all the commotion was about, who was energetic enough to be making a fuss at 8am? — to find Mr Balloons standing at the mouth of the driveway.

STARK NAKED.

Another neighbour was trying to coax him into going back inside, and waved urgently at me to indicate I should go back inside or get away NOW. I scampered back inside (since I clearly wasn't getting past him for a bit), and as I did so I could hear the lady in #1 on the phone. "Yes, he's just outside. Yes, he says he's fine, but he obviously needs to go to a psychiatric institution. Yes, naked. His mood changes are quite abrupt."

I decided to stake out my balcony as a proper vantage point while I waited for an opportune moment to hunt down a tram. Which is how I managed a birds-eye view of Mr Balloons chasing two young girls pell-mell down the street. I don't know whether he was running after them simply because they ran, or for other more alarming reasons, but he was certainly intent on the chase and the neighbour who'd previously been trying to talk him into going inside was alarmed enough to drop his groceries in the middle of the street and dash off on an intercepting course. Two minutes later (I presume the girls had reached their house, or otherwise vanished from view) he was placidly enjoying the feel of the grass underfoot and asking ingenuously if he could go and talk to that person over there?

I now think Mr Balloons' loopiness is caused, not by self-medicating, but rather by stopping his legal meds.