I have had a complicated relationship with Line Creek The Reserve. And that’s part of what makes the way Newnan Time with Harold reviews things so special: I don’t at all try to mince my words to sound impartial. I am me. And you are me. And together, we are all me. And speaking as me is the best thing me has ever done. Except when I made a smaller me. The other me is better than me.

Anyway, back to me.

I was a Day-1-er at Line Creek The Reserve. It’s been a major part of raising my child, old relationships, new ones, friendships, dating, drama, card games, board games, books, ghosts (long story), strangers asking where my mustache is, friends asking where my beard is (heh heh), and much more! It has been the backdrop for some of my favorite parts of my life, and my taste buds are forever grateful for its existence.

When I originally wrote my review years ago, I was at a pesky little place in life: we were fresh off my divorce, the chaos surrounding that, my loss of friends/respect/my favorite pants, and as my personal life was changing, so was the layout and employees at my favorite place in town.

Initially, I wrote:

Tables have now been added to the grassy knoll area of The Reserve. I don’t know if this is a permanent change, but I will be gutted if it is. I understand a brewery isn’t made with kids in mind. Still, this area has always been incredible to watch children play around in (and I don’t mind showing off my SOCCER skills for a minute or two, too). If the tables stay, this place immediately stops becoming a regular for me and my kid. LET MY KID RUN FREE AS A FOX GIRL! 

Something as simple as extra seating made me angry and lowered the score. Why? Because things were changing and I was ASCARED! Turns out? More seats and fewer little kids are an awesome change.

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I need to take this the only honest way I can: I owe Line Creek The Reserve an apology. Not one of those fake “I’m sorry you felt that way” apologies without any promises for change. A real one. The kind where I go back and read what I wrote and think, “man, this guy had a lot going on and chose a brewery to take it out on! WHY DO WE HURT THE ONES WE LOVE?!”

Because reading my original review again… whew.

At the time, my life had too many changes happening all at once. And then I walked into a place that was also evolving, and instead of adapting like a normal human, I said, “no, this brewery will stay exactly the same for me.” And when it didn’t, I wrote like a middle school girl writes a break-up letter to a boy who didn’t know she existed. I’m assuming. I can’t confirm how middle schoolers write. WAIT YES I CAN! My kid is in middle school! Phew. Not creepy.

Let’s talk about what I complained about:

The gravel.

Oh my gosh, the gravel.

I wrote about gravel like it personally wronged me. I questioned what gravel even was. I invented “bitty boulders.” I basically launched a geological investigation because there were small rocks on the ground that hurt my diabetic feet. Now? I walk in and think, “yeah, this is the good gravel.” I don’t even question it anymore. I trust it. I’d defend that gravel in court. They’d hit their gavel in support of gravel!

And the flooring options. I mocked it like it was a Sims build gone wrong. “Do you like gravel? Do you like fake grass? Do you like hard floors?” Do you care at all?! Who walks into a place for a beer and thinks about the floor? Unless you’re gonna pass out drunk and land on it–who cares!

Now it’s one of my favorite things about the place. There are not many spots in Newnan where you can accidentally experience four different surfaces in one night and not even notice. It gives the place movement. It gives it personality. It gives your ankles a journey. There and Back Again: A Walking Tale by Harold Baggins.

The seating too. I said it looked like it was designed by people who dislike kids. I meant it as a joke. Now I realize… yeah. That’s why it works. It doesn’t feel corporate. It feels like someone actually thought about how people hang out. And as someone who has hung out in groups, alone, playing Yahtzee, playing catch, flirting, crying, dancing, and fighting: the seating allows for it all!

Then there’s the beer. I said the beer was “fine.” I yelled it. I basically accused them of committing meh against my taste buds. I called some of it “Bud Light wearing cologne.” I rejected entire categories like a picky toddler. Citrus? Garbage. Pine beer? Sent it back like I was on Kitchen Nightmares and the clown fridge just grabbed hold of me. And the wildest part? I kept going back.

That should’ve been my first clue. Because over the past few years, something shifted. Maybe they refined things. Maybe my taste buds grew up. Maybe I finally stopped having a love-hate relationship with all alcohol and learnt-ed that alcohol isn’t scary–people are.

Now? The beer is not just good. It’s the best in the area. Straight up. Variety that actually means something. Stuff that hits. Stuff that surprises you. Stuff you talk about the next day. So much so that I messaged their page a few weeks ago asking for the cost to taste test every single beer they had. (They haven’t answered me).

Now let’s address a big miss: The employees.

I said they didn’t want me there. I said they seemed unhappy. I said there was a “grouchy culture.” I basically accused them of holding secret HD meetings (Human Disgust) to figure out how to look annoyed at me.

Or… hear me out.

They were just being normal people who had been working long shifts, and I was going there off the heels of my divorce where I felt like everyone, everywhere, all at once, was mad at me.

These guys were just people/ Not robots. Not Disney cast members. Not “Hi sir welcome in sir what can I get you sir” over-and-over-n-over-n-over. And at the time, I didn’t want that. I wanted polished. I wanted predictable. I wanted someone to guide me to “my beer” like a seeing-eye-dog for getting shwifty. Now? Those same kinds of interactions are exactly why I keep going.

They recognize people. They talk like humans. They joke. They’re real. And over time, they’ve become some of my favorite faces to see when I walk in. Do we talk about anything other than if I’m closing my tab or not? No! But I wouldn’t be afraid to tell them all my secrets!

Even my smaller complaints feel ridiculous now.

The flies? Yeah, flies exist. It’s Georgia. If anything, I respect Line Creek for not installing a full Wipeout obstacle course just to protect my beer from a kamikaze gnat.

The tables on the grassy knoll? I acted like it was the fall of society. “LET MY KID RUN FREE AS A FOX GIRL!” I was ready to boycott.

Now I see families still hanging out, kids still playing, people still enjoying themselves. And plenty of seating. I don’t have to sit at a table with a stranger who might touch my knee. I GET to sit at a table with a friend who WILL touch my knee.

Now? Some of the best stuff happening in Newnan is happening there. Live music that actually hits. Trivia (shoutout to the king, obviously). Books. Random nights that turn into something way better than you planned.

It’s not just a brewery. It’s a place people go on purpose.

I gave it a C+.

I even added a petty little “B+ if those tables go away” like I was negotiating a contract.

Embarrassing.

Here’s the real update:

Line Creek The Reserve is my go-to spot now.

It’s where I suggest people go. It’s where I end up even when I didn’t plan to. It’s where I’ve had some of my favorite nights in Newnan.

Every change I once complained about has become an improvement.

Every “issue” I had was either temporary or dumb old me.

And to make it official, I even nominated it for a Golden Mustache Award. Which, if we’re being honest, carries at least the same weight as a Michelin Star in Coweta County. Probably more.

Final Grade now?

A.

Which says a lot, because Newnan is full of great beer, great places for a beer, and great management. There’s not a bad spot in Downtown to grab a drink, and there’s not a more special spot than The Reserve, for now!