The washed gray hardwood floor of my studio apartment was sticky to the touch. The whole space reeked of something nasty. I looked down to my feet and saw that a mysterious juice had been leaking from my trash bin. How this got all over the floor was the bigger mystery. All I could see were shiny footprints from where I had stepped. “This is disgusting.” I grimaced as I tied the black bag up. With each tug, the waft of rancid leftovers creeped up my nose. The smell tickled my nostrils, and my nose gave a vigorous wiggle. The wiggle moved up to my cheeks, then my eyes, and eventually my eyebrows gave a shimmy. To be honest, I should’ve been used to this little dance, I always left it too late to take the trash out.