UNCLE NORMAN

 

My uncle Norman has, as my mum used to tell us, emotional problems although my dad always said he’s not the full schilling which in plain English means he’s a nutter.

But I like him anyway He’s not a dangerous nutter; he’s not a homicidal maniac or anything like that he just relates to the world in a different way to the rest of us.

When I was growing up he was so much fun to be with especially on shopping trips. In super markets he would put things into shopper’s trolleys when they weren’t looking like boxes of condoms or laxatives. Or if there were too trolleys next to each other he would take items from one trolley and put it in the other one.

Another time he dripped tomato juice from the middle of the shop to the women’s toilet. I didn’t fully understand it at the time but I laughed anyway.
The best fun though was on our trips to the department stores it was such an adventure as you never knew what he was going to do.

One Saturday he set all the alarm clocks to go off within five minutes of each other then he did his version of Madonna’s “like a virgin” while holding two funnels against his chest.

Some days his antics were quite tame but on others they were quite outrageous that’s what made shopping with Norman so exciting.

He might move the “wet floor” sign onto the middle of a carpeted area or get inside a tent in the camping department and invite other shoppers in for a sleepover.

He would hide in a clothing rack and as people approached he would say “pick me please pick me”

Another time he darted around the shop floor like a mad spy loudly humming the theme from "Mission Impossible.” Or he would sit in a fitting room and call out that he needed toilet paper.
Once when we were on holiday in America we went into a gun store and while he was handling a semi-automatic he asked the man behind the counter if he knew where he could buy anti-depressants.

As I got older his behaviour got more and more erratic and he got banned from more and more shops and stores.

So he started to play his games in the street or other public places.

He would go up to a CCTV camera and use it like a mirror and start picking his nose and at Waterloo station when there was an announcement over the tannoy about a train cancellation he curled up on the ground in the foetal position with his hands over his ears scheming “stop the voices, stop the voices”.

That kind of behaviour soon got him sectioned.

I feel guilty because although I didn’t directly encourage him I certainly didn’t try to discourage him.