I won't keep you
My neighbour is an alcoholic. A man in his mid 60s he could easy pass for much older. He has always offered me a tin of Special Brew when I've passed him getting pissed in the street - occasionally having recently pissed himself. I decline: "Too early in the day for me, thanks. Got to drive somewhere." I had always considered him mostly harmless, in spite of being regular woken too early on a Saturday morning by his long-sufferring wife shouting at him. I've never met her, though I understand she's lovely and has to put up with a lot. He was always friendly and chatty. Very drunk, but generally amiable. I felt bad but I always tried to avoid getting into conversations with him. "I won't keep you." That is his catchphrase. He usually did.

A few months ago I was returning from work when I found myself walking a few metres behind him near our street. "Bugger," thought I. "I'm really NOT up for talking to him." He was clearly VERY drunk having probably spent all day in the pub. I watched him as he calmly approached the zebra crossing, carefully lie down and go to sleep with his head in the road. "Double bugger," thought I. "I can't leave him here." Attempts to coax him out of the road failed so I resorted to calling for an ambulance. Whilst on the phone to the emergency services a bloke driving a private ambulance pulls up and offers to help. "Lovely," thought I. "A trained medical professional with an impecible bedside manner to assist getting this vagrent off the road." No such luck. The guy was about as much use as a chocolate teapot. Nothing more than a glorified taxi driver. We got my neighbour up and away from the road and my Samaritan fucked off.

Happily, the paramedics soon arrived where I found out some truths regarding my shambling, drunk neighbour. This particular crew were called out to deal with him at least once a week. He is well-known for attacking paramedics - particularly female ones (there was a girl in this crew and she stood her distance, letting the bigger, beefier guys deal with him). It took a great deal of cajoulong to get the (by now) angry, swearing and aggressive man into the ambulance and away but I like to think my calming words and encouragement helped. I went home to my beer, which seemed a little less appetising after my experience. 

I'd not seen him in a while and found out that this was because he was back in prison. He's out soon and, no doubt, his downward spiral shall continue.
(Rilux might be pregnant and has bum-aids, Fri 2 Oct 2009, 11:34, Reply)