I almost tripped over him. My thoughts were elsewhere, mostly pondering how it was possible for my niece Stephanie to be so excited by her new job as editor of the obituary section of our local newspaper, so I didn't see the man lying in the street until he was practically underfoot!
I was so shocked I almost became a casualty myself. My first thought was that I had found some new business for Stephanie but a second look revealed that he was breathing and, in fact, trying vainly to struggle to his feet again.
I knew that people are supposed to take it slowly after a fall and I was concerned. I knelt down to talk to him. Here's how I remember hearing the conversation.
ME: What happened?
HIM: Terrible chop for...
He lay back, gasping. I was afraid he was delirious. I tried to talk to him again.
ME: Where were you going?
HIM: Westward. Turn cross entry-
ME: (Interrupting) How many fingers am I holding up?
I was only holding up three fingers. I reached for my phone to call an ambulance, only to find it was missing! Fortunately, Stephanie appeared that very moment with my phone in her hand. I had left it on her desk. I called for help while she comforted the man, who was an acquaintance of hers. She told me his name and profession. I should have guessed the latter.
I visited him in hospital the next day. He had suffered a stroke but was doing much better. We even laughed about our misunderstanding of the day before. He wasn't delirious, merely confused and... overly professional.
What was his profession and what was he trying to tell me?
The answer will explain the missing tag from the title.