The phrase “corn maze” can either evoke an image of little children running through corn about two feet high, or a bunch of college kids with corn well above their heads, crying in a corner as a serial killer comes after them. Let’s just say that the corn maze at Iron Kettle Farm in Candor, N.Y. inspires the latter image.

I entered the corn maze thinking that this would be an innocent little trip with my friends. After walking in and having no choice but to walk straight, I was lulled into a false sense of security. What could go wrong? This was a family-orientated place, I had a group of friends who I trusted … what’s the worst that can happen?

Realizing that for the last 15 minutes you’ve literally been walking in a circle, that’s what.

It’s very deceiving when you see little kids running around the maze, giggling innocently. If kids can find their way around, shouldn’t a bunch of college students be able to, too? Well, apparently kids are now born with an internal GPS, because these kids were in and out, while my group walked around with no sense of direction. Call it the fact that we have small attention spans equivalent to that of squirrels, but eventually we gave up actively looking for the exit and started to just talk and wander.

We continued like that awhile, but then the ever-so-tempting smell of golden waffle fries and the sweetness of kettle corn wafted over us, and our guts got the best of us. We began our active search for the exit once more, and it got to the point that I kept a journal on my phone. I may or may not have exaggerated my situation: “Day 32: Still in maze. I think I remember what food looks like. Still can’t decide whether I miss my cute rain boots or human contact more.” Dramatic times require the inner writer to go to the worst-case scenario, and if anyone tries to tell me they wouldn’t miss their favorite rain boots, I’d call them out immediately.

Looking back, I suppose that I could have just used that old maze trick — put your left hand on the wall of the maze and follow wherever that wall goes. However, no one really wants to touch this corn. There are all sorts of germs creeping and crawling on it, and even though I took some very graceful — and totally planned — falls into it, I was not about to willingly touch all of the corn on the left-hand side. I may have been hopelessly lost, but I still had my dignity!

Plot twist: Eventually I lost all of my dignity and had a friend guide me out with little to no trouble. Apparently, I’m just really horrible at mazes. Honestly. Moral of the story? Mazes are not made for awkward penguins and turtles like myself, and if you aren’t so focused on how hungry you are for overpriced fries and popcorn, you might actually be able to get yourself out.