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The Fine Art of Mechanical Bull Riding

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bull, originally uploaded by elasticpiglet.

Well, it was Saturday night…I guess that makes it alright???

My little buddy Jasmin was in town from Florida. It was midnight. We were out on the town. We went to some club on Boylston called the Liquor Store. The DJ was playing some stupid, thoughtless drunken dance sex music. We tried not to make eye contact with anyone there. Because we weren’t there for the shitty Top 40 or for the desperately horny idiots. We were there for an express purpose:

To drink and ride the mechanical bull.

We dodged through the gyrating musky masses and the red and green disco lights to a circle of people crowded around the bull.

Now, before I go any further, allow me to introduce myself: My name is Sarah. I am from Oklahoma. And sweetheart, I know how to ride a horse. I grew up around horses, riding horses, getting bucked off horses, bossing around horses. I can even use a lasso. So, I knew this skill would come naturally. After all those years riding horses, a mechanical bull would be a cake walk. This was going to be easy. I was going to impress everyone in that bar with my skills. I was going to get on that bull, and nothing short of an earthquake was going to knock me off that metal fucker. I bust through the ring of people surrounding the bull, sauntered up to that beast, and jumped on. At that very second, in a moment of god-like clarity, the dance music was broken by the first few beautiful notes of Jon Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer.” Oh, YES. Full of confidence and vodka, I was ready to show those Bostonians just what kind of urban cowgirl I was.

Yeah, I was immediately thrown off—needless to say. Well, not immediately. I lasted about 10 seconds, before I was unceremoniouly dumped, or rather, sloughed off, of the side of the bull on to the ground below.

Upon contact with the ground, I heard something snap. It was my leg.

After all that posturing, all I can say is that I sprained my knee on a mechanical bull ride that was on the “easy” setting. Truth be told, the whole experience was mildly humiliating. But, damn, I _am_ proud of the fact that I wrestled with the beast and walked away with a battle wound. Even if the beast was made of metal and leather.

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Written by pocheco

October 17, 2005 at 7:04 am

Posted in Uncategorized

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