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I suppose the idea would have been, that you could say you did it for the rest of your life. I am brave. I raced with the bulls and lived.
The bull runners ran the gauntlet through the streets which led into the city bull ring. For us cowards, we could go into the bull ring stands and watch the street runners and bulls run into the ring, as the climax of the event. The runners clumped up on the far side next to the wall, maybe fifty to a hundred people. Then the bulls would charge into the crowd. This is where the danger was if you were on the outer edge of the pack. I as an observer-in-the-stands-guy, studied the psychology of it from a distance. What would I do if I was down there ? One has to choose for the sake of the study - when it is best to observe and when best to join the fray. But then I had always done that even when I was little.
And of course Nicole and I went to a bullfight or two. Probably her idea since I had already been - in Seville. It was the same story. All the people around us decried the bull fighters. Oh - if only you had seen so and so. These are no good.
Can't remember much. Not sure what happened, maybe we had a fight, or maybe she got mad at me. Maybe she was disappointed in me. I remember Nicole started hanging out with other guys and I got jealous I think. Or maybe she just wanted to hang out with the boys. Maybe I was too boring, not a party guy.
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