The Human Projectile

Public transportation here in Prague can sometimes be treacherous. I have often theorized that our particular route to school in the morning is operated by drivers in training. Training that consists of driving as fast as possible to stop lights and then slamming on brakes when the light turns red. Couple that with the nearly ninety degree turn and slides to pick up new passengers and you have all the reasons why I think they are driver's ed students.

Take last week for example. We got on the bus and were excited to find that it was nearly empty. That is very rare here this time of year. Our bus is the one that picks up all of the airport traffic so it is usually filled from window to window with tourists and suitcases. We sat down and began discussing what we needed to do that day. The bus took of like it was powered by jet fuel and hate. Our heads swing back to the g-force. (Not exactly, but pretty close.) I was just about to tell Tonya something when the slamming of the brakes began. Silly me, I had not wedged myself into the seat properly. I had forgotten to brace my legs on the seat in front of me. As the brakes slammed, I felt myself lift off the seat, surging forward. It was like a slow motion scene from a movie or something. I was thrown into the seats facing us, using my hands to break my fall. 

I was sitting in the seat facing me at this point, my face planted in the seat back and my knees in the seat bottom. I looked like someone who had been made to sit in the corner. I calmly collected myself and sat back into my seat. I was greeted by my lovely wife, who was laughing so hard she was in tears. 

And there you have it, folks. The Human Projectile.

Next week: Zombie Walk!