Was run over & dragged by a Bus. Part 1 & Part 2

The British bystanders pulled me out from under the bus. As I tell you this true story, I feel like in a movie of late, when the film starts with a title across screen "10 years earlier." 

Well, it's true 15 years earlier in my case.

There we stood together recently married nineteen year-old couple ready to conquer the world. We gently dropped our recently bought wedding bands in the holy water christen. We knelt in the oldest Catholic church in North America. The Cathedral in Mexico City We both swore to our Lord faithfulness and trust in our unfolding glorious marriage. One of us lied and failed to honor the Oath. 

Decade and a bit passed. Now we stood in a hotel in NY's Garden, down a bit from Times Square. The wife has cheated a few times, she didn't know I had found out. She takes kids to shop at the famous Macy's, and I stay behind to finish some work in the hotel. We're from California, and it's the first time we venture out of the golden state. After a couple hours, I hit the street to eat a hot dog. It's my thing later in life to eat, savor a hot dog, no matter what country I am in. All I know of New York, like most Californians, is from movies and TV shows. 

As I walk the street, am amazed how many people are walking. Countless women in business suits and tennis shoes. Holding their high heels, briefcases, and purses. In Los Angeles, we have maybe twelve buildings downtown. In NYC, near the Empire State Building, you can not see the freaking sky? Just trees of steel everywhere. I feel like a country mouse.  Feeling proud of NYC as an American, and yet a little provincial. I spot a peephole like one in the opening credits of  Odd Couple TV show with Tony Randall and Jack klugman. 

So I step into peephole club, and it's a small lounge with a single dancing pole in the middle of the floor. I think my damn wife had cheated and would serve her right if I did the same here. Behind the pole and the Vegas style giant feathery facade, I could see a hallway with maybe five rooms, figured like a brothel. Started to sweat and felt scummy. Then like magic, a pretty young woman appears next to me, her small hand on my elbow and barely whispers, "you look lost Papi". She gently tugs my elbow toward the hallway. I won't budge, she snuggles right next to me, lightly squeezes my crotch and softly giggles. I slowly hand her the over priced beer and mumble I am late for a meeting, and half walk, half run out on to the street. 

I hail a cab and flee back to my hotel. Next day after landing in London Heathrow,  I was struck head on, runover and dragged by a tour bus in front of my family. Not the famous double decker red London bus. Hell, that toy would have bounced off me. My monster was a train size of a tour bus. My jacket caught fire, as I was stuck under the bus, tumbling around like an upholstered furniture, thing. Felt my body being crushed and set on fire simultaneously.

The bus screeched to a stop. Tried to touch the undercarriage of the bus, it was too hot. Then suddenly hands pulled me out of underneath the bus. The sunlight was so bright I figured I was dead, and maybe I had snuck into heaven. The people propped me against bus sitting. I was too scared to look down at my legs. I looked across and saw my 10 year old boy crying. My wife then ex now. Was holding her face, doing the scream gesture from a famous painting. My 16 year old daughter was laughing with a young British cop. I peek at my legs. They look fine? I move toes and foot, everything is okay. I yell at my son, "don't let the redcoats see ya cry boy." Why I said redcoats I'll never know. Heard people laugh, as they stayed holding their phones at my face. 

The crowd kept shoving the phones, kinda raising my voice that 911 didn't work here in London. Some guy yelled back its photos, man. I turn to the right, I see the bus driver in deep argument with the cops. I get up trembling a bit and slam with my right hand on the side of the bus. I yell you stupid ass mother fucker and charge at the driver. The cops run and intercept me, and the small crowd cheers and yells words, but I can't understand them. 

Am instantly strapped to a stretcher, my kids and wife are next to me. In the background, the crowd is chanting "mother fucker terminator". My daughter is laughing her ass off, and the crowd is yelling he's a terminator. Then they sandbag my head, and the whole family is thrown into ambulance and we speed off. We arrive at St John's ER, and dear reader, sit down please. The ER doctor does NOT order any x-rays or MRI's, nothing. He asks me how I feel, and can I walk?. I do, and the quack taps my knees with a small reflex hammer, says OK, let's send you on to your trip. 

My daughter grabs the doctor and growls at him. Daddy got run over and dragged by your damn bus. The doctor gently takes her hand off his shoulder and says your father can walk, he's fine. They prescribed Motrin ok MOTRIN. and showed us the way out. As we stepped out, we were right across from the UK Parliament building. Tell my family how we just got treated. Now you know why 1776 happened. Imagine what the English did to the colonists.

Now why relive this right? In a post soon, I will tell you why I stepped off the curb in front of an upcoming tour bus. The reason it may save your life is as it almost cost mine.

The interior of the Church at the Santa Barbra Mission in CA. 2014