A birthday is a horrible time for a near death experience but, as my mother feared, the day I turned 22 I faced a twofold threat in Seattle–suspiciously close to Canada. The first was the insidious threat of crepe or nutella overdose at lunch:
The tastiest way to die
The second was far more overt:
Behold the seagull mafia!
Luckily, I am from Florida and narrowly avoided death by making myself look as unappetizing as possible and losing myself in a far more pliant tour group. Another narrow animal-escape.
Think that restaurant has enough flavors of Snapple?