A guy fell asleep in a coffeehouse and another guy called the cops.
No kidding. There I was, set-up at a table in my favorite joint downtown with my little netbook in front of me and a cappuccino by my side, when alla-sudden a patrol car pulled up and these two SFPD officers came in.
This wasn’t unusual because cops go in there for coffee all the time, since it’s downtown, but I knew they were on a call because they had the flashy lights on and had entered all business-like.
You know how cops casually saunter into a place when they just want coffee or pie; they have their thumbs hitched in their belts and look up at the menu or smile at the person behind the counter and say, “Hey *enter name here*, how are ya today?”
These two entered looking all concerned, and they were met by a nattily-attired young African man clutching a cellphone, who spoke in a clipped accent. “Dat ees him ovuh deah, officuhs.. he not move foh long time.”
Few people were paying attention. This is downtown San Francisco, where you pretty much have to strip all your clothes off and paint yourself in day-glo orange, then run into a coffeehouse yelling, “I’m Marylin Monroe!” to get people to look up from their iPads. That probably wouldn’t even do it, unless you tossed snakes at them or something.
So the cops walked over to the sleeping guy, who looked to me like he was sleeping, and they loudly said, “How you doin’ sir? You alright? Hey buddy, you ALRIGHT?” Then the sleeping guy awoke — slowly — and blinked his eyes while looking around, and when he saw the two cops he sat upright and woke up a little faster.
“Sure, I’m fine.. dozed off.. is there a problem?”
He was scruffy, but not terribly so. He had a backpack with him and it looked like he had a few layers of road dirt from traveling. His shaggy brown hair was mussed and he had a bit of stubble trying to be a beard.
“Let’s have you stand and produce some identification for us, please.”
The guy did that and as the cops scrutinized it he explained that he’d just arrived in town that day and was pretty tired from traveling, but there was this friend who was going to let him crash on his sofa, and blah blah blah..
The African guy stood near me as he watched intently, like the cops were shaking down the terrorist he’d spotted. Then, more flashy lights and a droning siren drew my attention to the sidewalk as a firetruck pulled up and parked behind the police car. One of the cops broke off from sleepy guy and approached the caller..
“Uh, did you ask for them too?”
“I call for help because I think he dead, if not dead then serious medical problem he was unconscious! In place of business during day! I was concerned!”
The cop rolled his eyes then met with the firemen. He said something to them and they all had the guy step out to the sidewalk where they gave him a quick examination, checking his eyes and so on. This went on for a couple of minutes until they were satisfied the guy wasn’t on drugs, then they all got in line to get coffee, including sleepy guy.
I was sitting near the little counter where people dress-up their coffee with stuff, which is what sleepy guy was doing a few minutes later, so I said, “Boy, don’t fall asleep in a coffeehouse in San Francisco, huh?”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” he replied with an appropriate tone of aggravation. “I can’t believe this stupid place called the cops on me man, I shouldn’t even be buying any coffee from them but I obviously need some.”
I realized that he never saw who had actually called, since the place had been crowded the entire time.
“No, they didn’t call it in, that guy did.” I pointed him out as he went through the door and headed down the sidewalk. Sleepy guy slammed his coffee down on the counter. “No kidding? That sombitch!” ..and out the door he went.
I didn’t expect that. Seriously, I didn’t know he was going to run off after him and get into some kind of altercation. He disappeared into the crowd on the sidewalk so I just reached over for his coffee and put it on my table for safe keeping because I’m cool like that. Also, if he landed in jail for assaulting the guy then hey, free coffee.
But he returned a few minutes later and as I handed his coffee over, I asked why he ran after him.
“I just wanted to find out why he called the cops when all I did was nod off.”
“And?”
“He said he thought I was dead.”
Well, there you have it. But I should add that if you’re ever in town and want to visit that particular coffeehouse but feel sleepy, it’s usually no big deal to nod off in there because I saw a guy sleeping in a chair once and Naomi, who works there, just nudged him to see if he was okay. He was, so he went back to sleep while Naomi went back to work and nobody called anyone.
Although maybe they should have, because the cops and firemen that day sure did seem to enjoy their excuse to have a coffee break.
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