Once, I found a man in my backyard. He wandered down the alley, up my driveway and around the corner. He found my little oasis, my private sanctuary in the city. He sat down and had a few gulps of black sludge from a Bacardi Breezer bottle. He was talking to himself and then passed out, with his head on the back of my craigslist patio furniture.
The situation progressed. He got taken away in an ambulance. He never woke up, from the moment he first passed out, to when they eventually flopped him on to a stretcher. I have no idea what happened, and as fast as it began, it was over in a total of 45 minutes.