Thirsty Pilgrim: Not Tonight, Dear.
Last year at Bruxellensis: It’s late on Sunday afternoon and simply time for me to go. Or so I’m told by the Woman, and she’s nearly always right about these things. So we leave. We make it about one block before I realize I left my backpack at the fest. “You go on,” I say. “I’ll just go grab it and meet you at home.”
Well, come on. I can’t just go back without having another beer or two, can I?