Super Bowl, part II

I'm bringing out my trash. As I close my apartment door and stand in the hallway, I can distinctly hear heavy breathing. As in, almost a snore. Which is just weird. All the bedrooms are either in the front or back of the building, so the fact that I can hear someone sleeping is vaguely disconcerting. So much, in fact, that I'm convinced that someone has left their door open. Or something.
I creep up a flight a stairs and the breathing gets louder. As I walk up to the next landing, this is what I see: A guy, well-dressed in a leather coat and expensive-looking jeans, passed out on the stairs. And not like he sat down and fell asleep. He's sprawled out, feet near the bottom landing and head on the top step.
I do the only thing I can do: burst into hysterical laughter. I mean, this is just...weird. I think most of us can admit to getting a bit tipsy and falling asleep awkwardly on the couch or on top of the bed covers. But...on a stairway? In a building where you do not live? WHAT ON EARTH was this guy doing?
I try to imagine the circumstances to which he'll wake up. Will he wake up naturally, be like, "Where am I?" and just get up and trot off? Will someone leaving for work in the morning rouse him when they attempt to step over him? Will that someone be the friend whose apartment he left? Should I wake him up?

In the end I leave him. He's too passed out to be woken without a shake, and I'm not really willing to touch a random person. I could kick him, or gently nudge him with my foot, but...no.
I quietly walk back to my apartment, double-bolt the doors (only two of the FIVE locks someone put on my door...), and climb into bed, suddenly more content than ever with my night of root beer and nachos.