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So one thing that's hard to find on-campus is, a socially acceptable place to lay down.

Let me back up. I'm mildly allergic to gluten. Basically, it wears down the tread on my stomach lining. Normally this is not a big problem: I "try to stay away from" products that contain wheat, but to get really, genuinely sick I'd have to drink gluten concentrate or something.

So do you remember the hot turkey sandwitches that my dad used to make when we lived in Adrian? Of course not. But the point is, that's one hell of a sandwitch. So tonight I describe the sandwitch at OG and they make one for me and I ate the sandwitch.

And the preternaturally thick gravy must have been made straight from gluten concentrate or something. So two minutes later, I'm locked in that semi-private bathroom throwing up things that I ate in kindergarten. Normal people who just want to go to the bathroom are knocking on the door.

SO-O I leave without paying and go to State Hall looking for a place to crash. It feels like I've been kicked in the stomach. I'm dizzy. I should phone a friend to take me home, but first I want some privacy with my exploding stomach.

So I get to State Hall and the bathroom floors are all pee-soaked, which makes me throw up again. Hmm, I think. Better go upstairs.

Then I kind of lay down flat on the stairwell. I know from my experience with Avalon cookies that I'm not going to die ("whole" = wheat), but the students, who don't know that, are stepping over me on their way to class. No forthcoming offers to help. So I'm laying there kind of praying, please don't let any of these students be my students, please don't let any of these instructors be Ruth.

And the student security guard who has seen me walking to class a ZILLION times asks me to leave. "I'm not homeless", I protest, "Just allergic".

"Still", says the guard skeptically, "you can't lay here. I'm going to have to ask you to leave".

So I go outside and lay on the designated stone slab. It's cold, so I go under my coat. What if I fall asleep here, I wonder. Throwing up makes me tired so I start to drift off.

But then, fortunately, some nice students come by and offer me a quarter.