Code 3 for man down.
A woman in a nice neighborhood waves us down, in front of the bagel shop. She’s a little excited, bouncing up and down a bit, arms outstretched, pointing behind the building with one hand and pointing in the exact opposite direction with the other. It’s quite a sight. I wonder what the fuck she wants.
I poke my head out the window.
“He’s back there! He’s back there!”
“So why are you pointing the other way then?”
“Oh, you guys can park over there. There’s not enough room here.”
Typical rich people “do as I say” bullshit.
“You leave the parking to us. I only care where the patient is.”
I’ll block the whole Goddamned intersection if it’s operationally necessary. I think it may even be operationally necessary today to piss her off on purpose.
She eventually points in the only direction that matters – you know, where the supposed patient is. We drive closer. I get out. I already don’t want to bring any gear.
“So what’s the problem?”
“We’re concerned about this guy lying on the ground behind that fence. See where he’s got his tent set up?”
“So he’s… sleeping…”
I’m definitely not bringing any gear.
“Well, I didn’t want to go check.”
“So you really just want him out of there. Got it. Thanks.”
And so it goes. Eight people belonging to 3 services show up to politely ask this guy to go sleep somewhere else to keep the more privileged folks happy.