Bob's story was that he'd had surgery and his brain was deprived of oxygen for a few seconds and as a result, he was a little "slow." He would appear fairly normal much of the time, but he'd sometimes stop talking in mid-sentence and look at you with a big smile on his face. Then in a few seconds, he'd "come back" and resume his conversation. As time went on these lapses got longer, and more frequent.
As a result, no one wanted to work in the d-2-d work with him. But I did, on numerous occasions, and learned to watch him closely and take up the slack if his mind wandered. I'll never forget one morning, the door opened and a middle aged woman in her bathrobe appeared, not very pleased at the disturbance. "Good morning," he began, "we are here today with a lifesaving...." He came to a complete stop and stared at her for maybe 10 seconds. At that she copped an ugly scowl and stepped back from the door. Just then, Bob's thinking process came back on line and he said, in a rather loud, theatrical voice: "My! What a lovely smile!"
The door was in motion half-way through his remark and slammed so hard it nearly rocked the porch.
Oh, wait! You wanted stories about dubs who were crazy. Never mind.