Sunday afternoon hobbies

Sunday, a balmy 50-ish degrees (F), the snow and ice are melting for now, what to do?
So the little lady and I talk a walk "down and around", a brief less-than-a-mile-rt, into the town center and back. Warm by any standard we've seen as of late, but there is a chilly edge creeping into the insistent breeze blowing in from the North - ah, the sub-freezing temps will be upon us again by nightfall. As we stroll along, we are presented with a social conundrum. This takes shape in the form of a guy, probably mid-late 20s, "sleeping" in the doorway of a low rise apt. building that graces the fair boulevard known as "Main St" (It is WEST main, were this the hinterlands of EAST main such a sight might not be so unexpected, but WEST Main, oh my stars, call homeland security please.)
To set the scene, it is 2:00 p.m. on a fair Sunday afternoon. This is a small town, truly small town, and to run across such a scene here is nearly as likely as seeing a helicopter land in the middle of the street. This fella is appropriately clothed for the day, with a reasonable jacket, and jeans, but the zipper of his pants is at an unflatteringly low ebb, and the jeans appear somewhat "wet" - instinct says "wet" in a very regrettable and unintentional way.
So my wife and I stop no more than a step or two past the fella, and we begin to confab on next steps. "Is he okay?" Well, his face is a ruddy red, as are his sockless ankles, and a 30-second stare reveals a slight heave of his chest.
OK, he is alive and the general appearance of things make this all look self-inflicted. Now what? Police HQ is only 100 yards away, so rather than try to wake the "wet" fella with a carefully placed hand and gentle shake "Dude.. Dude.. are you OK?" we decide the constabulary are best suited for the situation.
Before we get 50 feet an unmarked cruiser* comes our way and we flag it down. It's an officer I know (because I'm a model citizen - those other days are many years past), so I lean in the window, point and describe what we've seen.
He asks me a few questions, thanks us, and drives over to the spot.
We stay and watch from our vantage point. No more than a minute has past and an ambulance is rolling to a stop. By the pace & demeanor of the EMTs and the officer, this is not a desperate situation, and they commence a fairly casual and familiar dance to the tune of "oh, he's just stinkin' drunk". By all appearances it seems the fella will be OK - lucky him the weather is not like LAST weekend with the single digit daytime highs.
So I sit here and wonder, did we act accordingly, doing the RIGHT thing? What are my societal obligations, and when does someone else stray into my "freedom" by creating this scene? Am I an ass, and don't realize that he is a diabetic and was simply in insulin shock? Will he be in "trouble" having been found in this state? A bag of weed in is pocket, or a bottle of painkillers not for him. Why should I care or not? And how many people walked right by this guy and didn't do an f-ing thing at all? (a lot of people out walking today, had to be 3 or 4 minimum in the preceding 15 minutes). Ultimately, I can feel OK that the poor bastard didn't freeze to death, and did get professional attention that would surely result in at least one more day for him. Maybe he is a dick, and I'd never like him in person,(it was kind of dick-ish to F with our walk like that..) but I hope he's OK. Just a weird thing to have happen.

*Police refer to an unmarked cruiser as a "low profile" vehicle, so you are now required to say "Low-Pro Po-Po" every time you see one for the rest of your days, crediting me with the witticism. "Low-pro 5-0"?...don't even go there.