I don't think I'd realised how bad it had actually become. I knew that somewhere in N W London The Tezter had been a little over exuberant recently, but I hadn't realised exactly how over exuberant that had been.
But there he was, at 9 in the morning, standing on the threshold of my sitting room, screaming excitedly at Dani, my Romanian cleaner 'Tell me about him! Tell me about Prince Vlad Dracul! Tell me about the saviour of Europe!'. And he was wearing the dog lead.
The whole trademark manic-depressive-chic look was in evidence; the religious medals, the black t-shirt worn inside out, the waistcoat, the dog lead worn in the fashion of a Mexican bandelero, and I noticed a new addition to the ensemble - a large black and silver rosary draped around his neck. I also noticed how large and sparkley his eyes appeared behind his spectacles. Almost maniacal one could say.
Dani grinned appeasingly at him, and said that she wasn't very good at history, but she could ask her serious-Romanian-man husband. 'BUT YOU MUST KNOW!!' he shouted as he bounced up and down on the spot 'HE'S YOUR NATIONAL HERO!! THE SAVIOUR OF EUROPE!!'.
I mouthed 'You may as well go now' at poor Dani, while I tried to encourage The Tezter to leave, or sit down, or anything. She managed to sidle out unnoticed, while The Tezter decided to continue the conversation in cod German. This consisted of him speaking in one of those 'Ve haf vays of making you tork' accents so beloved of British and American film actors after WW2. I let him ramble on a bit.
'Where's Dmitri?' he suddenly roared. He rushed to the bottom of the stairs. 'Dimitri where are you, you idle ----er?'. Silence. The sensible Dmitri had probably hidden under the duvet. I heard The Tezter clumping up the stairs. 'Dmitri! Get out of bed you blank!'. 'You're the blank' came a muffled voice from the small bedroom. The Tezter then stood outside Dmitri's room shouting at him in cod French. Imagine a poor imitation of Gerard Depardieu in 'Green Card' and you'll be on the right path. There was no further response. Dmitri had wisely gone to ground.
Clump, clump, clump, clump. And he was back. There was some desultory chat about the esteemed Prince Vlad, ravening hordes etc., and I was able to persuade him to leave.
I heard the front door open. I didn't hear it close. I heard breathing. The Tezter was standing beside me again. 'There's something I must tell you' he said 'Something nobody else knows'. I waited with baited breath. 'The people who brought me up. They weren't my real parents.' he paused, time passed. He took a deep breath, 'My real parents' another pause 'Were' and yet another 'Adolph Hitler and his secretary Traudle Junge'.
And then he was gone.
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7 comments:
What will happen to him?
He'll rant and rave for a couple of weeks while his extra medication kicks in, then he'll return to his normal state of insanity.
Don't feel sorry for him. He adores being Manic Depressive. As far as he's concerned it's a badge of honour. Feel sorry instead for the rest of us around him who have the 3 in the morning phone calls while he expands on his latest Third Reich related theory, and in particular his LSW, who not only listens to him raging 24 hours a day, but has to constantly clean and tidy up after him.
Yes, I saw the Stephen Fry thing about Manic Depression last year. He said he quite likes the mania bits as well.
Presumably, when he is not manic, he can see how his behaviour affects other people though?
Yes, but he doesn't care.
We all have to look on the funny side of it, otherwise the LSW would go under.
sounds like he watched "downfall" a few times recently. I noticed that flms and Tv have a powerful effect sometimes. (had a friend who was obsessed with Open All Hours, and was positive he was related to Ronnie Barker. ) he'd rant on all subjects but Ronnie would always come up.
Goodness d. chedwick bryant, The Tezter is also a fan of Ronnie Barker, although as yet he has not entered Fantasy Ronnie Land, and 'Open All Hours' in particular.
I spoke to his LSW this morning. The madness is still upon him, it continues undiminished and unabated. This morning when she rose, he had moved all the furniture in the sitting room, and turned all articles available in the kitchen upside down. She was not pleased.
Sometimes, after an episode, he buys her a bottle of 'Joy'. I feel that this time, a large bottle of the Parfum is definately in order.
Seems Katy was too cheap to organize a card and so solicited us to come over and say Happy B Day instead. Only now I discover I am at least a couple of days late and this has no relevance at all to the post it supposedly comments on.
Bum.
Hope it was a good one anyway. And many happy returns to boot!
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