Local NuttersEverywhere in the world has its fair share of deranged people. I grew up in Wolverhampton and remember the Polish tramp who lived in a tent on the roundabout. Legend had it that his coat was stuffed with cash. More recently I notice the guy who spends his day pushing a trolley round Camden Sainsburys shouting, "Best of luck!". Constantly. Tell us about your local nutters. Points for details. Extra points for photos.
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rob, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 11:54)
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LittlestoneIn my home town of Littlestone, in south Kent, there was a local nutcase. We could never be sure of his name, he was dubbed "Pavarotti", for he was constantly singing opera. Once, he told me his name was Orlando, but I found this hard to believe.
Anyway, Pavarotti lived in a basement flat on the seafront, above which one of my friends lives now. He has the kind of design painted on his door that you would expect to see on some Russian Dolls. Pavarotti could usually be found wandering along the seafront or up and down the main road. His dress sense was unique. Often, a pink or white dressing gown and slippers would prevail, which certainly looked odd on a man of about 65 with a large, greying beard. Other 'a la mode' clothing people have spotted him in include a pink feather boa, a child's t-shirt, and some very small, very tight, very '70's' shorts.
At the age of about 12, we plucked up the courage to talk to Pavarotti. This is when he told us his name was Orlando, and then continued to say how myself and my mate Jon looked like sisters. (I'm a chap). Pavarotti taught us how to whistle by putting grass between our thumbs and blowing, and we did this as we left him. Because he was doing this too, he waved at us with his feet.
Odd guy...
Apologies for the girth.
(, Fri 17 Sep 2004, 17:14, Reply)
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