"Dude! I know it's your bike, I just need to borrow it, OK?"
I first discovered the festival a little over a year ago while accidentally dating a vegan. She explained, a little too aggressively I thought, that the tattoo on her lower back was a sigil she designed at the Burning Man Festival and not a poorly drawn target as I had suspected. I told her firmly that festivals built around ritual sacrifice were not something I condoned, and while never actually accusing her, I may have insinuated that she was a witch. The relationship didn't last long after that. Still, I grew curious about the desert party she was forever proselytizing. A week before it was set to start, I did a little research and discovered the true romance of Burning Man. It was a veritable mix tape of all my favorite things in life: art, adventure, music, sun, sex, magic, and on occasion, sex magic. I was in, full tilt.