So out here in the Midwest, peeps celebrate this random day and call it "Sweetest Day". We're pretty sure it's made up, and we don't really get it, but we usually just like to give ourselves some extra love, self-love that is! Because why do we have to have a sweetie on sweetest day? It's just not cool that rest of the world is out there bragging about their Bae and reminding us how single we are.
Here's the deal- we're happy for you and all, and Happy Sweetest Day and everything but like, we just don't need to be in a relationSHOP, you know?
Yeah forsure, Shinola is hot but in that after-my-gap-year-in-haiti-I-just sailed kind of way that makes us wonder if we can really hang out while we're wearing $3 Salvation Army patent leather sneakers.
Plus City Bird is so stinking cute down to every last detail and RIGHT across the street. Have you seen their card collection? It's actually perfect. We don't even have cards. We legit sell Bons and then tell people, when they ask if we have cards, to go across the street to City Bird.
We just kind of hide around the corner by the alley and chill with Third Man Records who, admittedly, is every ounce of our badboy in a good way teenage "dude in a band" dream but we're just so used to being roommates (we share the back room) that we don't even see it anymore. Once, Jack White came in and our staff didn't even recognize him they just thanked him as a general Third Man employee for letting us use their bathroom for a week while ours was being worked on and offered our bathroom to him if he ever needed it. That happened. If only Chef Jon Kung was into chocolate shops...
And you know what? Ann Arbor's the same deal - we have this huge crush on Madras Masala but they're so focused on being a restaurant they don't have an instagram let alone know we are in Nickel's Arcade so we just kind of chill with our girlfriends at University Flower Shop at Comet Coffee and gossip about point of sale systems and the new guy in town, we think is name is Joe or something? Makes pizza. Anyway, we basically spend our days mowing down on samosa while we pretend we don't have an audible full of self-guided improvement books prioritized by Oprah's recommendations every time our friends get in these wildly interesting conversations with the people from Bivouac about Foxfire 5. Thankfully, Scrap Box is on the way home and they are our people and our van, Vanessa, looks cute in their parking lot.
At least we have the dog park, and really great landlords. Anyway, if you're single AF we get you. Own it and do whatever the hell you want, whenever the hell you want!
