The Drama at 105

So, if you live in Houston or you're pretty familiar with it, you know that my current residence is in a very upstanding and safe neighborhood. Young professionals, large townhouses, young families. It's great. Actually, my roommates and I are probably the worst of the bunch [unless you count our neighbors and colleagues (I hate that word) Bobby and Ahmit]. We have the occasional parties and a lot of our friends are loud and it absolutely pisses off our neighbors. But I digress.

So, driving home from a long day of work, school, and studying, I'm about 100 feet from the house. And low and behold, there just so happens to be a guy lying on the street. I turn my car to the left to avoid him. At this point, I'm freaked out. Don't know what to think. Why is there some dude laying on a dark street. Is he dead? Is he passed out? Foul play? Well, me being where I'm from, I immediately think, "the moment I get out of my car to check on this guy, he robs me." So I quickly pull into the garage, close it, and dial 911. Fight or flight? Flight!

I give my information, which by the way, if you're ever in a true emergency, the protocols will drive you nuts, and I wake up Sal (one of my roommates) to come down and investigate the situation. We walk out on the deck (as I'm still giving the information) and I see a very nice Mercedes pull up. First inclination? This driver is going to run this guy over. But the car stops. And it stays there. So, well, the guy isn't dead. That's a plus. Sal and I decide it's a good idea to go down and investigate, only now that we've seen it's safe. In the meantime, an ambulance and police car are on the way.

We walk downstairs and onto the street. Sal in his robe, me in my dress shirt, slacks and tie. And what do you know, a woman pops her head out of the Mercedes and starts asking questions. Funny, two grown dudes were afraid to stop while this woman has the balls (or is naive enough) to pull over and deal with the situation. Never send a law student to do a grown woman's work. She starts to ask questions and tells us she pulled over to make sure that no one ran the guy over. Strike two against the law students.

Sal begins to tap the guy. Telling him the cops are on their way and he needs to get going. The woman also voices her concern about him getting a public intoxication citation or worse, a DUI. I'm thinking, dude gets what he deserves for passing out in the middle of the street. After about a minute or two, the guy finally comes to. He's kind of giggly about the whole thing. He mentions something about his girl calling him a cab and how he lives on Pedro. A quick search of "Pedro, Houston, TX" shows this which, if you're familiar with Houston, is imaginary land as far as this area is concerned.

The ambulance pulls up. He gets up to talk to them. The three of us reiterate that he should not tell the paramedics he was driving, as he had initially intended to do. The lady pulls over, and gets out of her car. Her name is Kelly. Not more than in her early 20s. For shame law students. For shame. This young lady had the gall to deal with the situation while I hid in the house. I feel great about myself right now. The guy starts talking to the ambulance driver (who thought it was Sal who was lying in the street - he was wearing a robe, so he looked kind of sketchy). Kelly proceeds to tell us how she discovered the guy and how she just broke up with her boyfriend of five years. Hey, tragedy brings people together, right?

I guess the guy lied and said he lived across the street cause he gave us the "I just lied" grin and booked down a driveway of townhomes. I walk over to the ambulance driver to ask what happened. And then I tell him he doesn't really live there. Yes, I snitched. But I don't Mr. I-Just-Passed-Out-In-The-Middle-Of-The-Street to get behind the wheel again. So they walk down the long drive way, flashlights in hand looking for the guy. He's nowhere to be seen. Apparently, he jumped the fence and took off into an apartment complex. A cop finally shows up (way to be late) and starts to help. A tow truck driver also shows up to assist. I won't go into the details of how they shined their lights to the second floor of the abanadoned apartment complex to see if he went there, because obviously that was retarded. Houston's finest, at your service. The tow truck driver decides to shine his light down a sewer grate, noting how intersting it is that it goes so deep. It's like it's the eighth wonder of the world buddy.

The ambulance driver tells us that this is a common occurrence for people to pass out in the middle of the street. Could have folled me.

We stand around, casually making conversation about what a strange occurrence this all was. The ambulance eventually leaves, as do the police and tow truck driver. Sal and I walk in. Strange, strange things. Moral of the story: don't pass out in the middle of the street cause I'll call the cops on you.