Buffalo Wild Wings Was Actually My Personal One-Man Gay Bar. Deeper into my boyhood bender, we experienced marvelous. We liked the classroom-like interest grown boys paid to games that appeared to carry on forever. We liked her bourbon honey mustard-stained hands touching in awkward high-fives.

I’d read your Ann Arbor Buffalo Wild Wings had been a key homosexual meet-up location, but I gotn’t believed they. Continue reading →