Riviera, Brazil.

“Hey, do you guys want a ride?”

Sam and I were walking back to a friend’s apartment after leaving him behind at a rich person’s mall. He was waiting for a girl he was interested in, but after twenty minutes of standing around exchanging disdainful looks with pastel polo-clad yuppies we had decided to strike off on our own. In keeping with the wealthy vibe of the place, most people drove like douche bags, and we ignored the car honking behind us until a car full of young looking girls screeched up next to us.

“Uh, sure.” We were only a few blocks away, but I wasn’t going to turn the offer down. It wasn’t until I had squeezed into the back seat that I recognized them as the 19 year old girls we had met the night before.

The prior afternoon most of the ten guys I was sharing a penthouse with were already exceedingly drunk. One of them, a man only known as Japa, had spent the better part of an hour yelling obscenities inside the apartment before he took to the balcony.

“I’M JAPANESE! SHIT! I’M JAPANESE!” His screams in Portuguese echoed off the surrounding buildings. A few of the other guys started whistling as loudly as possible. I was hung over and had yet to drink that day, and the unending explosion of noise was pushing me closer to suicide than I’d care to admit.