Imagine you’re on a bus, high in the Bolivian sierra. The alcohol you smelled on the driver’s breath is having its affect, as he’s honking into oncoming traffic to pass rusty Volkswagens and herds of alpacas (while cursing them in Spanish)… Dust enters your nose and you cinch your seatbelt a little tighter, but all you can think about is: “Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten the llama burger last night”, and “God I hope I make my 5pm flight in La Paz with all my limbs intact”…
Long story short, yes, I made the flight… And no, I’ll never eat another alpaca burger again.
