I met him- an extremely rude and strange man

The time of my encounter with Mr. Atkinson was Febuary of 2010. I remember it was a bright Sunday afternoon, I work in and own a fruit and veg shop in Apethorpe, Northamptonshire, where I believe he also lives. It was around 4:30, closing time with it being a Sunday and I was preparing to move the stock and close the shop, Mr. Atkinson quickly dashed in and asked if it wasn't too late for him to buy some produce as it was he and his wife's wedding anniversary and he wanted to cook something special for her. At that moment in time I was thinking "Why not? By all means" so I of course agreed. Mr. Atkinson meticulously scaled the shelves of the refrigerators with his eyes. I didn't want to pry or ask him anything despite being a fan of his work at the time, I heard he was a private man, so I left him to it. That is until he asked for some help with what to choose and what the names were of some of the fruits and vegetables. I didn't see any harm in assisting him, so I came out from behind the counter and approached him at the main vegetable display. He began asking me what the names and types of really obvious, well known vegetables- I thought he was joking. He pointed towards some brocolli and asked me what the name of the vegetable was, I kind of shrugged it off and said "Oh that's brocolli." This is where things got particularly interesting; after I explained about the brocolli, he placed his right hand around the back of my head, pulled my face towards and into his face and screamed "I know!" I stepped back nervously, not knowing if it was part of a joke or if he was genuinely being strange, so I studied his expression and behaviour a little bit. He was staring at me, so figuring him out wasn't too difficult- he was dribbling, biting his tongue and rolling his eyes until he went cross-eyed.

I cocked my head and blinked before asking if Mr. Atkinson was okay, his response was something along the lines of "Okay!? OKAY!? Am I... okay? Well I was, until you treated me like a complete buffoon!" He paused grabbed a cucumber and began prodding me with it as he continued his rant "Notice, I am prodding you, do you notice!? Ah, yes, yes you do! BUT, with what am I prodding you with?" Out of disbelief, I stuttered and mispronounced "cucumber" and so his tirade continued "NO! It's CU-CUMBER, CU! You know like 'snooker cue'! You sir, leave me no choice!" I concentrated intently in anticipation of what was coming next- Mr. Atkinson, rotated one hundred and eighty degrees to face the refridgerator, as if he was going to select something else, but he swiftly shot back round and used the power of the spin to hit me over the head with the cucumber as hard as he could. Now I have to tell you, refridgerated cucumbers hurt... I stumbled back holding the top of my head as he absolutely cackled with laughter at my pain whilst giving me another speech "Hahaha, you think that hurt? Do you think that is pain? You have no idea! This floor, a well polished and well maintained one, yes? Slidey, yes!?" I simply nodded, as Rowan Atkinson proceeded to tear his shirt off and attempt to slide on the floor towards the counter, which he did to some degree of success. In fact, he misjudged it, sliding a little too far, going full tilt and planting his head into the base of the counter, or maybe that was his intention. In any case, he did damage to both himself and the wood of the counter, sustaining injuries to his head and torso that had been skinned by the floor. To his credit, he did have a high pain threshold, jumping back to his feet immediately. I had recently signed a contract to sell canned goods, mainly beans, Mr. Atkinson became aware of this as he saw a stacked display of beans. He simply yelled "BEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAANNNNSSS! Before sprinting head first into the display, sending cans crashing and rolling all over the floor. This was a big, big display, to the point where he was almost not visible underneath all the cans. I attempted to lift some of the cans that were lying on top of him, but he said "NO! This my blanky!" In a muffled voice from being under so much tin.

To go along with his "blanky" ensemble, Rowan began kicking his legs and screaming, making the majority of the canned beans roll off and away from him. He kicked his shoes off and put them on his hands and crawled around on the floor screaming "Shoe-choo!" He began to cry when he urinated in his underwear, so he stood up with the shoes still on his hands and he began running towards the glass window of the shop door. My shop is quite vast in size from the back food displays to the front door, so he had a bit of a distance to run, so I had enough time to shout and for him to respond. I said "No, sir, don't!" Rowan Atkinson simply responded "Don't worry, my magic shoes will protect me!" He raised his shoe-wearing hands up in front of his face to "shield" his face as he sent himself careering through the window of the door and out onto the street beyond. I took a couple of paces forward, but no further in sheer shock, looking at Rowan Atkinson's battered, cut and bloodied body. He literally had glass stuck in his forehead and despite this he still mustered the strength to flip me the middle finger and crawl away. And that was my encounter with him...