Morality and Ethics When Helping Drunk People

I'm Okay!

Here's a great story about a drunk guy I met serendipitously outside of my apartment. The guy pictured above actually looks a lot like the guy I met tonight. THIS IS IN PROVO, MIND YOU! While you read this story, consider what you would have done had you been in my place:

THE STORY OF JUSTIN

I met a man named Justin in one of the boys buildings at Carriage Cove as he fell halfway down the stairs on his bike.

"Do you live here?" I asked.

Justin lit up a cigarette and took a long, interrupted drag. "No. I'm looking for Sara's house." Justin fell down again. "Whoa! That's steep."

He then proceeded to tell me how he was dropped off here by "his friends" who didn't want him around anymore because he was gay. "Do you hate gays?" He asked me, breaking from his story (and obviously in search of new friends). He continued to explain in detail some of his sexual fantasies before I stopped him.

"No, I don't hate gays. But I don't enjoy talking about gay sex."

Justin burned himself on his cigarette.

"You're not looking so hot, dude; we should get you home. Do you have a phone?"

"Yeah."

"Can you call anyone?"

"No. My phone is dead." Justin's responses, thus far, were surprisingly coherent.

"May I see it?"

"No! …why?"

"I want to see if I can find you an adapter that will fit your phone."

"I've got my adapter in my pocket." Justin produced his adapter.

"So you have! (I was genuinely surprised.) Well, we'll just plug you into one of these wall outlets and give Sara a call. I'll be back in 2 minutes to check on you."

(Bad idea. When I came back, Justin had taken off.)

I found him falling all over himself near a busy street. I ran to him and helped him away from the busy traffic. "Where are you going?" I asked.

"Sara is coming to pick me up but I don't know where I am. My phone died again."

"Let's go back and give here another call."

So we did. Justin kept pleading over and over that I not call the police. "I can't get arrested again."

I told him (actually, I spoke more to myself since he wasn't comprehending anything I told him at that point.) that if he were on the girls side of the complex I probably would have called the police to have them help Justin home, but since there were no girls around and he had someone who seemed to care about him whom we were able to contact, I told him that I would help him find Sara.

We met Sara in the Carriage Cove parking lot and together, we walked Justin to a house a few blocks away. Sara worked with Justin at DI. She agreed to let him sleep off the liquor that night on her couch. I found out that Justin had an 8-year-old son of whom he had full custody and an abusive grandpa of his own. I also learned from Sara that Justin was a "recovering" alcoholic and was afraid to meet with his LDS bishop at a scheduled visit this Wednesday.

Once Justin was on the couch, they both thanked me and I found my way back to the door. On my way home, I thought, what a great example Sara is of true Christian service. (Parable of the Good Samaritan) I helped him for a mere 15 minutes and thought I was doing "my part," but Sara had allowed him to sleep on her couch and she took responsibility for him. WHAT IF HE THROWS UP ALL OVER HER HOUSE?!

I also thought about what a rough father's day it will be for Justin's little boy.

The Good Samaritan (as told by children)

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evieperkinsSun Jun 21, 08:03:00 PM MDT
Oh Brian, I met this man, too. He stopped my car to ask me where "Seerah" lived on my way out of the parking lot. I simply wished him good luck and drove on my way. I didn't realize he was drunk. Thanks for taking care of him.

Tuesdays with Muerte

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