The Shirt Off His Back

The stereotype of the suburban drunk is a straitlaced businessman who hits the neighborhood bar for a couple of belts with the boys, then stumbles out around 2 AM. He is depicted singing some tune from his youth, along the lines of “Show me the way to go home, I’m tired and I wanna go to bed…” If you’ve seen the movie Jaws, it’s the tune the three main characters sing right as the shark begins to attack the boat.

For modern times, however, the suburban drunk is an anachronism, a vestige of the past. Functional alcoholics are seen as pitiful, desperate creatures who need sympathy and support to pull themselves together. But there is something to be said about the occasional drunk, whose celebration is totally out of proportion with everyone else, making an intervention even more urgent.

Many years ago, I encountered a situation late one night with a drunk who staggered up the wrong street and thought my address was his home.

At around two in the morning on a mild spring night, I could hear someone walking down my block. singing off-key. Feeling groggy, I staggered into the bathroom. As I returned to bed, I heard someone downstairs banging on the front door.

Our home had a Slomins alarm system (which I deactivated in silent mode). I walked into the front room as quietly as possible and stood on my tiptoes to look through the…