Then You're the Subject...

So, I had another funny encounter that I was going to write about the other night, but didn't have time. It was about a drunk guy who fell down after hailing a cab, then the cabbie drove off without him after arguing for a few minutes in an animated manner. The only reason I even saw this exchange was because I hopped on the wrong trolley-bus on my way home the other night... The only reason that I didn't post about it was because I ran out of time.

But now... I have a different story to tell you about, but, it is slightly embarrassing. I know, jumping on the wrong trolley-bus is pretty embarrassing... especially when you have been taking the same bus every time you get on at this particular stop.

I was dreaming about being robbed. I felt like I people were rifling through my pockets and I was aware that they were shaking me. Maybe I am being mugged I thought. It was surreal, I thought it was really happening, I felt like it was really happening, but everything was blurry. Then I opened my eyes and instead of the image washing away or snapping to reality, it simply came into focus.

It was really happening. I was being shaken, I was lying on the ground with four guys standing over me. But, I wasn't being robbed or mugged at all. The guy was asking me if I was ok.

My mind began to race. Why in the world was I on the floor of a bus? How did I get here? Why was that guy asking me if I was ok? Why would I lie down to sleep on the bus? Thanks for giving me my hat back, wait, how did my hat come off? Why does the back of my head hurt? Where is my backpack, oh there it is...

I was on trolley-bus number 85, headed to the Profsouznya Metro stop. I was on my way to Russian lessons. I had been on the bus for 35 minutes, and was running late. At the next stop I was about to get off. I had suddenly felt hungry, and within a minute, I felt like I was going to vomit. You know the feeling that washes over you when you know you are going to throw up. The one that makes your skin feel cold. The one that makes your thoughts turn from whatever they were focused on, to trying to figure out where you are going to throw up at. The one that makes you think, "If I can only make it to the bathroom..." Yeah, I was hoping to make it off the bus. I put my book away, and my driving thought, as the bus stopped in traffic was, "If I can just make it to the next stop, I can run over to the grass and... well, at least there won't be vomit on the bus."

I put my book away, adjust the way I was leaning on the railing at the back of the bus, and... then... I woke up.

So, in an ironic twist... I was the guy laying on the ground needing help. I was the one that innocent bystanders thought was drunk or high. I couldn't explain myself... because I was totally freaked out, the little Russian I did know was the farthest thing from the front of my brain.

A woman got up and gave me her seat... Everyone was staring at me... I was hot, but I felt a cold sweat rising to the surface of my skin. I was weak, I had a headache, I was confused.

I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow.