My uncle lives alone. He's retired. I don't hear from him real often, but his sister called my wife and asked us to go check on him, because no one has heard from him in days. I text him, no response. I call him, get no answer.
So, I dropped the daughter off at swim practice (pics are forbidden, and she's 9, so don't ask) and went over to his place. No tracks in the snow leading to or away from his place. Ring the doorbell twice. No answer. Bang on door twice, no answer. I can faintly hear the TV.
I called the cops. Then I called my aunt. She tells me there's a patio in back and you can see into his living room. I walk around the back and look inside. He's on his couch, slumped over. No lights are on, and the TV light casts a pale glow. I tell my aunt I can see him and I think he's dead.
I eventually bang on the back door. He jumps up, very confused, and answers the door, talking like he had a stroke or something.
He's drunk. Alive, but very drunk. He lost his phone deep in the bowels of his couch, and gave up on finding it. I called it 9 times in a row until he found it.
The cops showed up, and seemed relieved that I wasn't there to ambush them. They took my word that he was still alive. They left as quick as they arrived.
My uncle said that whatever was going on, another bourbon will surely solve it. I took that as my cue to leave. Not dead, just very drunk. Yikes.
So, I dropped the daughter off at swim practice (pics are forbidden, and she's 9, so don't ask) and went over to his place. No tracks in the snow leading to or away from his place. Ring the doorbell twice. No answer. Bang on door twice, no answer. I can faintly hear the TV.
I called the cops. Then I called my aunt. She tells me there's a patio in back and you can see into his living room. I walk around the back and look inside. He's on his couch, slumped over. No lights are on, and the TV light casts a pale glow. I tell my aunt I can see him and I think he's dead.
I eventually bang on the back door. He jumps up, very confused, and answers the door, talking like he had a stroke or something.
He's drunk. Alive, but very drunk. He lost his phone deep in the bowels of his couch, and gave up on finding it. I called it 9 times in a row until he found it.
The cops showed up, and seemed relieved that I wasn't there to ambush them. They took my word that he was still alive. They left as quick as they arrived.
My uncle said that whatever was going on, another bourbon will surely solve it. I took that as my cue to leave. Not dead, just very drunk. Yikes.
