Walking home from my local tonight I found a man sleeping in the street. This is unusual for Happy Valley. I reacted. Upon further examination I discovered that he was a Gweilo, so a clear case of booze overindulgence. I woke him up. Got him back unto his feet. Walked him for a some 50 m. Stuck with him as he threw up, then asked him where he lived.
Some 5 min later he was still unable to tell me. So I said:
- It's bloody cold outside, you can crash at my place.
The reply was the first thing he had said to me so far and the sweetest I have ever heard from a drunk-off-my-face man:
-But, I'm married.
I was saved from having to tell him, that not even if I hit the deepest darkest place of desperation would I pick up a next-to-unconscious man, by my barman, who thankfully swooped in and took over.
Despite the obvious objections, the incident did instill me with some new faith in men.