COEUR d'ALENE - If Jay Leake isn't busy bugging people - something he likes to do - they'll throw a list his way.

Better yet, sometimes they throw a list his way for exactly that, bugging people.

He'll wiggle his fingers under his chin at coworkers in the city's maintenance shop, a la the Three Stooges.

Or he'll tap, tap, tap the shoulder of a mechanic until the mechanic has to drop his tools and turn around.

"It's part of his buggin'," said Carl Harris, a city diesel mechanic and coworker of Jay's the last seven years who has taken more than a few unexpected breaks thanks to Jay's tap, tap, tapping. "I say, 'Jay, why are you buggin'?"

Because it's his MO.

And every once in a while Jay, who is mentally handicapped but has worked for the city's street department for 25 years, will push it a wee bit too far and, boom, out comes a list.

They call it a special list.

But it's more like a list of chores outside Jay's normal rounds at the shop, a little more time consuming like picking up the trash outside the Ramsey Road station with a picker.

And when Jay's supervisors have a list in hand and go looking to assign it?

"I hide," Jay said Monday, pointing to a corner of the shop away from the fire engines, police cruisers and diesel trucks waiting for tune-ups. "Over there."

Bugging aside, jokes aside, Jay is quite the worker, his colleagues say. In March, he was awarded a service award for his quarter century working with the city during an annual award presentation. His recognition, signified by a commemorative glass bowl blazed with the state of Idaho seal, brought the house down.

"I was just so shocked," said Marianne Leake, Jay's mother, on the loud reception the room gave him when his award was called at the end. "The whole room exploded."

Around the shop, Jay sweeps and takes out the trash. He breaks down cardboard, recycles and does odds and ends around the garage that's packed with every city rig from lawnmowers to front loaders.

He socializes too - a breakthrough if you look back 25 years ago when the former TESH client was hired by the city.

Back then, Jay didn't speak. He didn't make eye contact. He just did his job, and went home.

Ask Sid Fredrickson, wastewater superintendent and former street department employee who hired Jay if he thought Jay would last 25 years and he says: "No. Never."

"Oh my God, it's been quite the change," Fredrickson said. "He's just a completely different person than when he started."

"He's quite the card," he added.

Jay, 48, has a goal.

By 50, he wants to live on his own. He's taking cooking classes at TESH - the nonprofit that provides opportunities for people with disabilities to achieve self-sufficiency in the community - to learn how to cook and grocery shop. He works Monday and Wednesday at the city shop, and Thursdays at Air Tech Engineering, helping the business in Hayden.

"Jay has such a huge support system," Marianne Leake said. "He loves going to work every day; He won't miss it."

He enjoys swimming at the Kroc Center, too, and weekends, he calls interim Shop Supervisor Steve Wolf to see where the two are going to go out to lunch that week.

Subway usually. It would be Hudson's Hamburgers if Jay had his druthers, but he has to watch his cholesterol like everybody else.

("Cheese, pickles, and ketchup," he said of his Huddy favorite.)

"He always brings a positive attitude to work," said Wolf, who, despite the title, still isn't immune from Jay's bugging. "And he works pretty hard, most of the time."

Well, Wolf said, "This is his world, this is his social outlet."

Too much socializing, though, and out comes a list. Then it's time to hide.