Bull at its Finest
It’s my birthday later this week and every year as a present to myself, I try something I’ve never done before. Last year, it was all about riding a bull (mechanical that is). It was about a month after my real b-day and I’d been trying to ride a mechanical bull for weeks. At one point, I sat waiting for more than 3 hours for the mechanical bull to open in Ft. Worth. If you can’t find a bull to ride in Texas, where can you?
California, apparently. I hunted down a mechanical bull in Northern Cali at a place called the Saddle Rack. Now, the Saddle Rack was a true country western bar, complete with line dancing and people wearing cowboy boots.
They also had a pretty decent country music cover band. We were at Saddle Rack having a great all-around time, shooting a little pool, drinking some Jack. Before long, we got up the nerve to take our turn on the bull.
Right before you climb on the bull, you need to sign a waiver form. In my own defense, I was having a pretty good time and just signed away on the bottom line. And well, they asked my age and I don’t know, but 41 seemed like a really high number, so I just wrote in 20…..who cares, right? Um, the bar management cares.
I climb onto the bull and had a good long ride, one arm in the air, whooping it up. I eventually get thrown off, landing fairly nicely on my rear. I stagger (‘cause you’re kinda dizzy) to the side where I’m met by security guards, who escort me out a side door.
Oops. I’m in trouble. Once outside, they begin to question me. Now I look good for my age, but I’m no 20-year-old. I begin to apologize profusely, saying that I was obviously well over the legal age and just joking around. Whereupon they threaten to throw me out of the bar…
Then it hits me: I may not be 20, but at least I was acting 20.
This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 30th, 2009 and is filed under Erin Now.