Gored by a Bull

We’ve had our first serious accident with a visitor. My longtime friend Demetrious came to visit from Los Angeles and within the first 24 hours of his stay he managed to get gored by a bull.

Now I don’t want anyone to get the impression that we have random bulls wandering the ranchito or the streets of San Miguel. But his visit happened to coincide with the annual Pomplonada, or, running of the bulls. While my friends and I huddled in front of a television to watch the event, Demetrious decided that he wanted to be in the thick of it, and take some photos with his new camera. Near the end of the event I received a call on my cell phone.

“Charles, this is Demetrious. I’m in the hospital. I got gored by a bull.”
“Yeah, right. Listen, are you going to meet us here at the bar or do you want to meet somewhere else?”
“Charles, I’m serious.”
“You’re kidding right? I mean, if you’re kidding you need to stop right now because this isn’t funny.”
“I’m dead serious. I got gored in the leg, twice, by a bull. I’m in the emergency room. Can you come get me?”

After establishing which hospital I walked into the emergency room just in time to see them putting him under, pant leg cut open to revealing two gaping wounds.

Long story short (the long version is his prerogative and he has already written about the experience from his perspective – much more vivid than mine), he is going to be fine. He will have two huge scars on his leg to remind him of his Mexican experience. He spent the night in the hospital, under observation, and was released the next day. Subsequent swelling and pain convinced us that he’d better cut his trip short and return to his doctors in the U.S.

He did get his picture. The rest of us just got drunk.


I ran into an old acquaintance. He and his family used to rent the house on Vergel before I did. We were at a gallery opening when he launched into a tirade about his wife leaving him, and their three adopted children, for an old high school sweetheart. He was on a rant.

“That guy better have his dick insured! She came back to me showing remorse and I told her to forget it. I’d never trust her again. I’ll take my chances.”
“You should do well here. There are a lot of middle aged single women in this town.”
“Yeah, it is like a friend told me, “The odds are good but the goods are odd.””

I thought that was a brilliant description.