What you should know is that my roommate is from China. The particular evening he was calling was within a week or two of his arrival in the states to begin his MBA. I figured he would have a quick question about the microwave or the washing machine. What I heard was actually nowhere close to what I was expecting. “Jesse!”, he said in a hushed tone, sounding quite alarmed. “There is a man. He is on the porch! He is lying in front of the door.” I have to admit, I wasn’t super alarmed. Probably just a homeless man, I thought to myself. Living in the middle of downtown, homeless people are pretty commonplace. He continued his story, all the while whispering. “I went to take out the trash. I saw someone lying there and thought it was you. But it wasn’t.” I did have to wonder why he thought I would be lying on the porch. He went on saying that he had hurriedly come back inside, locked the door, and was not peering at him through the blinds. I have to admit the thought of my roommate hunched over, peering out the blinds was a bit amusing to me. Regardless, I still was not too alarmed. I assured him that the gentleman was homeless and I would be home soon. I hung up the phone and began wrapping up my conversation. I admit, not being too alarmed, I didn’t exactly rush out. As I was walking out the front door the phone rang again. My roommate.
“Hello”, I said. “Jesse!”, he said in a more hushed and more alarmed tone. “Zhang”, I said. “Jesse?! Jesse!? Can you hear me? ”. Now, it’s important to realize that we had a bad connection. I could hear him but he could not hear me. The urgency in his voice sounded like he was in imminent danger. There was shuffling in the background as he talked. “Is he in his closet?” was my first thought. After a few more anxious-sounding pleas, he hung up. The situation had suddenly turned. My adrenaline was rushing. My mind raced to intruders sneaking around the house as my roommate cowered in the closet. What a way to introduce the poor guy to America, I thought. I immediately called back. “Jesse! The man is still there. He is not breathing. I think he is dead.” Now I was really unnerved. It would only be a few minutes before I was home, I assured my roommate. The drive was only about 10 minutes. 10 minutes is plenty of the time for an adrenaline rushed brain to begin conjuring up worst case scenarios. 1. A man has chosen my porch as the place to breathe his last breath. 2. He is not dead. It’s a con job. He’s lying in wait on porch and when I walk up he’s going to jump me. 3. He was trying to break in and died. 4. My porch was the scene of a homicide. By the time I pulled up to the palace my heart was racing and my mind had managed to fabricate the more horrendous reasons for this man to be lying there. Sure enough, a man lay directly in front of the door with his back to the street.
He was indeed quite motionless. I jumped out but refused to approach the porch. The mind does funny things when you work yourself into frenzy. “Hello?”, I called out. What I wasn’t thinking was that whether dead or waiting in ambush, he was not likely to answer. Still, I called out several more times. I could see my roommate, still peering out through the blinds of the front door. Looking back, the scene is quite amusing. Tall white guy pacing back and forth. Motionless stranger on the porch. Chinese man peering out the blinds. I just can’t make this stuff up. What ensued next is still bit of a shock. The expediency with which events unfolded might in fact lead me to believe that I may actually have some sort of sway with local authorities.
Being a total scaredy-cat I opted for the ever convenient 911. “911, what’s your emergency?” “There is a man on my porch and he is unresponsive”, I said. The dispatcher shot a few more questions at me. “Which ethnicity is he?” she asked. I realized I couldn’t even tell. Long pants, boots, hat, and his hands were in between his body and the house. “I don’t know”, I replied. The dispatcher must have thought I was a moron. Turning toward the street I happened to notice an ambulance driving by. As it passed the intersection, it executed an immediate U-turn. The ambulance was sitting in front of my house within 30 seconds of dialing 911. The paramedics got out and approached the man. After a few tries, the finally woke him. “How ya doin, buddy?” they asked. “Oh great”, replied the mystery man groggily. “You must not be so great. You’re on someone’s porch!” They began trying to get him up. He was so drunk; he couldn’t stand on his own. Stumbling along, my porch had been as good a place as any to settle in for the evening. Were it me, I would have chosen my porch, too.
The paramedics got the gurney, loaded him up, and drove off. Just like that. It was literally three minutes from the time I drove up to my house until the whole ordeal was over. Didn’t I need to sign for something? Didn’t I need to show my ID? Wasn’t there a report I had to fill out? Shouldn’t I give a statement to the police? Something? Not that I actually WANTED to. I just figured that if another human being passes out on your porch, there needs to be some formalities conducted in the ‘removal’ of said person. I made a phone call and he was promptly removed. There was no follow up. No statement. No report. No witnessing. The paramedics didn’t even really ask me any questions. Nothing. They just loaded him up and took him away. For all I know, they were actually from a real life version of a Soylent Green factory.
So how is it that you can remove an unresponsive stranger from your porch in less than three minutes? Who knows? Maybe this is really a palace and I really am royalty…. Regardless, I’m sure it made a memorable first week for my roommate. Welcome to America, Zhang.