Falling down

I just dropped off a guy at a bar, sort of a dive bar. I had picked him up at a nice Hyatt, and I noticed he was staggering as he walked to the cab. The doorman ignored him, which is unusual, but probably normal when an undesirable is around. He got in my car and slurred the name of the bar. When we got there, the meter said a whopping $3.80. He gave me $6, which is fair. After he got out I called "clear" on the radio, took a position at a cab stand (virtual line maintained by dispatch), then began pulling away from the curb. Before I made it two feet, the guy came up to the passenger window.

Him: Hey.

Me: Yeah?

Him: I'm not in trouble for falling down, am I?

Me: (WTF?) Did you fall down at the Hyatt? (If he had fallen down drunk in the lobby of a Hyatt hotel, he'd get tossed. Maybe that's what he was referring to.)

Him: No.

The idiot didn't venture any more information, but he didn't walk away, either.

Me: Did you fall down right there on the sidewalk?

Him: Yes.

I started laughing, and told him I didn't see him, and neither did anybody else. Don't worry about it. He must have fallen and then looked around to see if anybody was watching, then maybe he saw me use my radio and got scared I was calling the police. Ladies and gentlemen: if you drink enough to fall down, you've had enough. Perhaps just enough, but it's time to stop drinking.