I was heading upstairs from the laundry room after putting some clothes in. I was waiting for the elevator.

I looked through the front-door window and saw what appeared to be a man, lying on his back on the sidewalk.

I looked again. Yep. Definitely a man. Yep. Definitely not moving.

I went out and asked if he was OK. He didn’t move. I asked again…no movement.

Ah. There it is. He is breathing. Good.

I called 911 and as I was waiting there, talking with the operator, that’s when people actually decided to pause.

Some concerned neighbors, on their way in, asked about him and waited with me.

At about this time, a line of five over-dressed party boys streamed out of the apartment and didn’t even pause.

They moved through the crowd (like ambulance drivers?) and didn’t even take off their sunglasses for a peek.

The firemen arrive (first responders) arrive and a big husky guy hops out of the truck and yells “Francisco!”

Apparently they have met before.

He rolls over to Francisco and starts talking to him. “Que onda, Francisco?” (what’s happening) The other responders kind of roll their eyes. An older guy says “I’ll cancel the ambulance.”

Eventually they get him to sit up.

I checked on the scene from my balcony a few minutes later, they had called a PDX cop in. They handcuffed him and searched his backpack and took him away. Presumably to sober up downtown.

How was your afternoon? I got most of my laundry done.

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