Editors' Note -- This story dates back to a lazy Saturday in 2005. With an unquenchable thirst, I made my way to the local watering hole where I encountered what appeared to be a sad, lonely, broken down man. Little did I know that he had a story to tell, and so much to teach me. Over the corresponding weeks and months, I continued to see see him out and about, engaging him in conversations that I would quickly go home and put to paper. This is the kind of stuff that you can't make up.
His name is Mike, and this is his story.
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