My co-workers and I went out in Hoboken to celebrate Jackie’s straight A’s in college. After drinking margarita’s and Corona’s at East LA on Washington Street , I needed to get home at a decent hour- we had Soccer Awards in the morning.
George dropped me off at the ferry in Lincoln Harbor, and I had a nice evening boat ride back to Manhattan. I hopped on the ferry bus to take me to Penn Station. All was going fine, a really nice night out.
As we approached 6th Avenue and 34th St., I buzzed the buzzer to get off, gathered up my things and stood up to move toward the front of the bus. I was a few seats back from the front when the bus driver slammed on the brakes, going from a decent clip to absolutely stopped.
I wasn’t standing for long. As I went flying down the aisle, as I approached the front, I grabbed the pole in the front, and swung around headfirst down the bus steps! My head slams through the front doors, and I end up with my head and shoulders outside of the bus, reading the ad on the side, which by the way, was for “Don’t Mess With the Zohan”.
(Yes. I know you’re laughing. I think everyone in front of Macy’s on 34th St. was laughing. I’m laughing now too. You know you can’t make this stuff up…)
This very nice man comes up the aisle and tries to help me up, managing to get my head back in the bus. He’s trying to help me up, since I can’t contort myself in the narrow stairweel to turn around and get back on my feet. He’s pulling me up, but I’m not going anywhere. My hair is stuck in the door! I tell him this, and he yells at the bus driver to open the door so I can get up. The bus driver, by this way, is apologizing all over the place, but never got out of his seat. Now the door is open, and EVERYONE can see me upside down in the stairwell! Another very nice man outside now comes over, and between the two of them get me standing.
I’m trying very hard not to cry, and to try to focus on the two gentlemen helping me, but everything is blurry and messed up. They find my shoe, which I literally FLEW out of when the bus stopped. They find my bags- one that fell off the bus, the other still left in the aisle. They asked again if I was okay, and I assured them I was. I wanted to get out of there- I was so embarassed!
I get down to Penn Station, get on my train, call Husband and immediately burst into tears. As I’m sobbing out my story to him, I notice the blood dripping down my arm! A cute couple gets on the train, looks over at me, and turn around and head the other way. I don’t blame them! Another couple sit down near me, with their kitten, and ask if I’m okay. I smile at the kitty, and tell them I fell out of a bus. She gives me a napkin to wipe the blood off my arm. New York City- lots of strange people (a kitten?) but very nice…
Taking inventory, I have a bruised left shoulder, radiating pain down to my elbow, bruised tendons on my right arm, maybe from grabbing the pole, a 13″ bruise on my butt 2″ wide and straight across- right where I hit the step, a sore head and for some reason my knees hurt. God looks out for klutzes, He doesn’t let us seriously hurt ourselves.
Somebody Google “Lady falling out of bus at 34th st NYC”. Let me know if you find anything. This might be worth framing!