Hollywood: quiet night plus a bonus: surprise ending
Some nights seem to exist a never-ending series of “immediate-need” events that keep us busy on patrol … and then, there are nights like this Saturday: quiet all night (well, almost all night – that’s the funny part, coming up in a minute).
A -Mostly- Quiet Night on Hollywood for the Angels
Hollywood was quiet for us this weekend. In fact, it was quiet for everyone this weekend!
It was only at the end of the night, walking back towards our shared car that we realized we had barely heard any police sirens throughout the evening. Usually, we expect to hear them all night long: pulling over drunk drivers, responding to radio calls – Hollywood Blvd on Saturday night is normally a near-constant police siren, accompanied by the red & blue lights that go flying past us as we walk the street.
We did have a moment or two of comic relief. By blind luck, half of us were walking to meet the other half when we met up with a couple of girls at a crosswalk who were thrilled to see us: “I feel a lot safer with you guys here. Will you walk with us to where we’re going?”
That was nice, and we were glad to help – especially as they were headed exactly in the same direction we were. Why were they getting so much unwanted attention? I think it had something to do with their matching super-short skirts, matching super-small shirts, and their matching (no kidding) purple wigs! Advertising doesn’t always consider the environment in which it places the young people looking for work, I guess.
Another funny moment popped up when another young woman made an effort to give us some invitation cards to some kind of club or event by telling us about the voluptuous bosoms that we’d encounter if we attended. Obviously, we let that “opportunity” pass, and continued trying to be of good service to the good people of Hollywood that evening.
Our Hollywood Home-Base: Safe & Sound
Certainly, I’m happy to report that our much-appreciated home in Hollywood was as quiet as Hollywood Blvd. We didn’t have to remove anyone from the roof, or from the halls … everyone found a quieter place to party; hopefully our presence at the building is having the desired effect of deterring would-be building crashers from trying to party there.
Our One Incident: The True End of the Night
I was the last one to get dropped off, back at the Jinenkan Dojo – which doubles as our Guardian Angels training center in West LA. Cory, who was driving, collected his belongings from the training area, and I grabbed my bicycle (I’ve been riding a lot recently).
Concern for personal safety in general turned out to be a lucky break: I turned on the light to my bicycle, and did a quick ride through the parking lot, checking my brakes, and I saw our only real event of the night.
As I rode around, I saw someone hanging out of the back seat of his car, not doing very well at all: With the door open, and his legs inside, this unfortunate young man was hanging his whole torso out of the car, resting his face on the pavement!
I signaled with my light to get Cory’s attention, and he popped out of his car to come and help. We approached him together, and upon shining a light on him, we noticed a stream of blood running along his car.
Luckily, he was semi-conscious, but not responding to verbal questions at all. Just vomiting-spitting onto the ground, until he must have realized we were there, and got upset, pulling himself back in the car and shutting the door, mumbling something.
Our “good samaritan” capacity to help was impeded: if unconscious, he would have given “implied consent” for our help; instead, he put himself behind personal space, which we were a little reticent to ignore.
Cory looked at me, pulling out his phone saying, “911?” but he was already smart enough to be dialing. Luckily, LAFD Station #59 is right around the corner, and help was on its way within a minute.
A large truck AND an ambulance arrived, and a handful of folks jumped out and walked over. They had no problem spotting us (of course!) and walked over to the car, saw the vomit-blood cocktail on the pavement, and knocked on the window. With no good response, they opened the door, took his pulse, noticed his lack of coherent response, and pulled him out, and onto a gurney.
Our victim-of-alcohol-induced-stupidity put up a minimal struggle, trying to indicate his significant health. One of the paramedics asked, “I’m glad you’re fine. So, why are you vomiting blood?” With that, they put him in the back of the ambulance.
We got a quick nod of thanks from the paramedics on the scene as they loaded up to leave with him in the back of the rig. The last thing Cory and I heard from him – and this was an awesome indicator of the effect of alcohol on judgement – was when he loudly announced, “I’m alright! I can drive! Seriously!” Wow.
Hope you had a good, safe night. Dare to Care!
