The bus I am riding on must be on its way to a garbage convention. Never before has a more rancid assemblage of people congregated. I am at this moment privy to a momentous moment in the history of human smell. My name will probably be memorized by future students, preparing to answer this frequently asked exam question: Who demonstrated a supernatural ability to remain conscious on the most disgusting vehicle to ever disturb our debauched world?

As it turns out, my acceptance of the heroin addict’s invitation to party may have been a case of poor judgement.

Ivy’s taken me to her parent’s house... I was originally lured into her car with the promise of a burrito. Ivy did not mention going to her parent’s house at all. She had only said, “Hop in Jane, we’re getting burritos.” Blinded by my affection for burritos, I jumped into the car like an unwitting pig on its way to a slaughterhouse.

I have to share a room. I am expected to sleep mere meters from a woman whose mental ailment is unknown to me. For all I know she might be a cannibal.