A day after the Spanish beat the Dutch in the World Cup, I was on a train to partake in the second dumbest thing I have ever done. (First Place goes to the Wilson-Cook Gunshot Extranaganza)
I strike up conversation with the guy seated next to me, JoshER.
JoshER, a newly minted ER Doctor, just finished his residency at (for the sake of anonymity) some school.
He must have felt like I was some blonde trying to get a perscription for codine, because I kissed his ass for the entire train ride to Pamplona. (If I get gored the last thing I want is some Spanish Doc asking making procedural desicions based on my distaste for Futból.)
JoshER asked “What is that book you are reading, about?”
PVW “It is a linguistics book. It talks about how you think with words as symbols.”
It was not until I dissected our 3-hour conversation, that I realized he took note.
He casually peppered in words like trample, carnage, gore, horny, into his languaging. By the end of the train ride I felt like I was going to be one of Maximus’s next victims.
It wasnt until an hour after I was off the train, throughly shaken from our interaction, that I realized that I had succumbed to this man`s intellectual superiority.
Running of the Bulls.
I am getting a peptalk from the group leader, NutBar.
NutBar was like Crocodile Dundee mixed with Mike Tyson. Not the most stable guy, but for some reason the Aussies revered him.
A group composed of forty aussies and one American(Yours Truly) were staring at him in rapt, eyes glossed over, hypnotized.
He was explaining to the group, ” 10 seconds prior to the bulls coming around “Dead Man`s Corner” we are going to charge the herd, and maneuver behind them all the way into the arena.”
He insuiated instead of Running with the Bulls; We run AT the Bulls.
Little Voice “Um, I need to get away from this dude.”
I make my way up the block. The street is as narrow as the hallways at Delta High School.
Haphazardly, I run into JoshER. and sigh in relief of the logic that: If I get gored, it won´t be with the Steve Irwin wannabe down the block.
8:00:00 AM. First Gun goes off. Signifying that the first herd of the Bulls are released.
Breathing Normal. Heart rate slow. Crowd is at a slow trot.
8:00:31 Second Gun, goes off. Crowd lolly gaggin´
I have no visible exit for at least 400 yards.
I can not see cattle behind or in front of me.
All I hear are feet.
I look up at the people on the banisters
All I see are jaws dropping.
The bulls are close.
8:00:47 Crowd is at a full sprint. JoshER is nowhere in sight.
I look behind me and the crowd opens up directly behind me.
Wall to wall concrete for the next 150 feet.
8:00:49 No one is behind me. Except for a 650KG Orange Brahma Bull named Gavioto. He is not happy.
I am at a full sprint. I have 100 feet to go and no other options, but straight.
I pressed CTRL+Z five times, but I can not go any faster. He is closing in…
8:00:53 He is 2 strides behind me and I am weaving through the crowd, ducking, dodging.etc.
Wilson athletic prowess is completely untapped until our lives are on the line.
8:00:59 The corner is in sight.
8:01:00 I Reggie Bush Gavioto the Bull. Stop-Start and cut across the median and jump onto the fence. I am the victor.
8:01:01 While celebrating my victory, a cop pushes me off the fence and back into the stampeding crowd. I am not the victor.
8:01:09 Gavioto trips, gets disoriented and starts charging my general direction. I hop on the fence and another cop pushes me off AGAIN! I push the cop back and and he falls off the fence. I smile.
8:01:20 Gavioto is disoreinted and I want to make it into the arena, before they close it off.
8:01:21 I am getting assualted by herdsman stick to get back. This is on the video . (3:44-3:48) Black Shorts, Red bandana)
8:02:00 I am in the arena. Victorious.