Go away. Please, just go away.
New Holland Brewing Company in Holland, MI
You’re walking down Columbia. It’s not too late yet. We’re just into September. You remember that Septembers signal the beginnings of college football and the smell of drying leaves against a backdrop of cool nights where you can have your car window down almost all the way on your drive home. But it can get chilly late, late at night, at times when you’re out. But September in the East isn’t like that. September is still swampy–thick and sticky, like swimming in a pool of creamed corn that’s been on the oven for way too long. You’re walking, though, anyway, and you notice a man coming towards you. You don’t know him, so you ignore him, and he passes by you on the street. It’s still too hot, and the sun is just barely going to bed on the horizon, but you can’t see it. You only see this man, now right behind you, asking you, “Have you ever been to Mexico?” You say you haven’t been. From there, things go downhill. He invites you to walk with him, and he hands you an El Mole Ocho beer from New Holland Brewing.
