Whoever discovered the mind boggling fact that a single piece of paper couldn’t be folded more than seven times had obviously never encountered a American millennial trying to read a foreign road map. Pushing my curls aside, I looked once again at the withering paper from every which angle possible, as if I was going to somehow unlock the Da Vinci Code and all of heavens light will shine down on the exact destination I needed to be. Unless heaven was suddenly renovated into a tavern, however, then nothing of the sort was going to happen. Letting out a heavy sigh, I shoved my map back into my complimentary sling bag the tour guide insisted we all take to, in quote, “find each other and keep within the group.” My team, with our puke green bandanas, were trying to get to the Museum of Contemporary Art when I, the group’s ugly duckling, managed to lose one overly peppy tour guide and seventeen humans in a practically empty alley. “Well, at least this won’t be the first time I caused my team to lose something.” I chuckled, wiping off my glasses. Taking a deep breathe, I grabbed the straps of my bag and headed towards the cavern doors, forever wishing I was about to be gazing at beautiful watercolors hanging on the world’s most awestrikeing walls instead of being stared at by sobering eyes.