CPR

Everyone should learn CPR. Rock swore that would become his crusade after he watched helplessly as a man died at his feet.
Rock had gone to the Democrat Building in downtown Little Rock to visit his former boss Jeff Krupsaw, but before he made it to Jeff's desk, and after he walked out of the stairwell into a hall on the third floor, he saw an old acquaintance he'd known for more than thirty years. Typical of those sorts of characters from Rock's past, he had no idea what his name was but recognized him immediately and remembered that they had always been on friendly terms.
The man was perhaps two sentences into a story about something Rock would never be able to recall when he reached for his chest. He struggled to continue his story, and then paused, and virtually collapsed into small leather desk chair.
Rock felt panic rise. "Should I call for an ambulance?"
The man nodded yes, and Rock pulled out his cell phone to call 911. He screamed, "Does anyone know CPR? Please, does anyone here know CPR?"
Rock's stricken acquaintance stood from the chair and collapsed to the old tile floor near a large, wooden blackboard, just before a young, slightly overweight blonde woman walked past.
She looked at Rock and smiled, then quickly walked by as though nothing out of the ordinary was underway.