Last night, at the end of August, the temperature in downtown Kirkwood, Mo., was 90 degrees at 10:00 p.m. And it’s not just because I ate roughly the size of Albania in spinach artichoke dip at the Highland Brewing Company either.

Followed by an 8-oz. hamburger.

And an Island Paradise drink that something absolutely yummy in it.

No. The fact that I’d just gorged myself had nothing to do with the fact that I was dying of a Texas-size heatstroke last night. I’m absolutely confident of that.

Confident-ish.

Ok, so it could have been a horrible combination of the two.  To walk it off, I took a little stroll through downtown Kirkwood. I stopped off at Great Harvest Bread Co., which was closed.

Like I was even hungry.

Who are we kidding? I was so stuffed I could barely breathe.

I walked past the fire station and saw some firefighters putzing around. And by “putzing” I mean “dying of the heat while gasping for water.” Then this happened. The Sugar Shack is a cute, old-school candy store with a little bit of pretty much everything.

Gummy mustaches? Got ‘em! Butterfingers the size of a 2 x 4? Got ‘em!Gumballs the size of the planet Jupiter? Got ‘em!

Having a bad day? Tired? Lacking pep? Just drive past the Sugar Shack and sniff the air.  It’s a sure-fire cure.

As long as we’re on the topic of fire, did I mention it was HORRIBLY HOT LAST NIGHT?!

I wandered past the train station and found several old men sitting behind it in lawn chairs.

Different.

Kind of creepy.

But very different. There was this cute store with adorable things that I don’t need but would totally buy with money I don’t have just because. And how many of your jewelers have patios upstairs where you can chillax while spending several years worth income on one piece of jewelry?But the best part of Kirkwood at night, the one part that’s definitely never hot, namely because I’m fairly confident I sit right over a vent and turn into a virtual icebox each day, is the International Center.

If you look carefully at the second floor, about ten windows in, right behind the glowing yellow light, you can’t see my desk. But it’s there.

Rain or shine, snow or hail, hot Missouri weather or . . . even hotter Missouri weather, that’s where the magic happens. And by “magic” I mean “awesomeness.”

You understand.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, since it’s one day later and the temperature is 101 at 9:59, I have to make a quick phone call to Satan. It turns out . . . he wants his weather back.