The Leaper
More Oxford nuttiness; this time, out in the suburbs where no students venture, so if you aren't and never were, a local, you probably won't have come across him.

Littlemore, on Oxford's southern fringe, is a village well known to the populace as the site of the local mental hospital. It's now a swanky residential development, but the Mental Health Trust run a clinic over the road, and some of those who lived there have never quite managed to leave the locale for one reason or another.
One such, to whom I was introduced by my brother, who was an Occupational Therapist there, was The Leaper.
Quite simply, this man had only one aim in life, and that was stopping the traffic. To this end he would stand, often trying to hide behind the beacon post, at the pedestrian crossing, and upon seeing a car, bike or anything else with wheels on travelling fast enough to be dangerous, leap out onto the crossing, thereby exercising his well-earned and learned right to stop the traffic and cross the road.
Oh, how we laughed as we slammed on the brakes, tyres smoking as we slew to a halt in front of him, as he simply stood, aimless, on the crossing, waiting for us to wave him across.
Oh, you'll never guess what he did when he reached the other side of the road. Go on, guess...

That's right! He just stood there, lurking, waiting for the next car to roll by.
He's gone now. I don't know where, but I bet he doesn't live in one of thos nice St George's Park flats that the old hospital became.

Again, apologies for length, girth etc, but my job isn't very engaging, or particularly taxing, even for small monkeys or an otter with a bad leg, and I like to talk to people...
Aargh! I've become a local nutter!
(doctor sideburns, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 15:27, Reply)