Divided Wings

I live on a street in Brookhaven that is divided. One half of the street is covered in gorgeous, overpriced town-homes and very close to the heart of Brookhaven and a constant stream of really fit moms in $100 yoga pants running and pushing a stroller with toddlers wearing $100 shoes that they take off and throw repeatedly till they grow out of them in a  few weeks. The other side of my street are low rent apartments with mostly Hispanic families who are walking to and from work. I hear Brookhaven Betties talk about Buford Highway as if it’s a foreign land, only to be visited for Pho and with a ~group~, never alone. I have a choice every afternoon on my way home from work: take the prettier Brookhaven way home with more traffic and less pedestrians or take the Buford Highway route where there is less traffic and I see people different from me. The Buford Highway way makes more sense.

I get my car washed at local place on Buford Highway run by a husband and wife who hire men who are being rehabilitated for various reasons. They do a detail quality level clean for $20. It takes about an hour but more money goes to these hard working guys than practically anywhere. Next door to the car wash is this place:

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Touting the “Best Wings In Town!!!”… read it, THREE EXCLAMATION POINTS! Yesterday, I was thinking about wings most of the day and I had nothing to cook at home so I decided today was the day to try this place, alone.

I walk in and realize I look Brookhaven. I had on my work clothes: black cigarette dress pants, black leather heels, gray and white satin stripe tank, and royal blue cardigan.

I order my wings, 10 medium buffalo (from the wide variety of flavors and option of fried rice or french fries as a side.) I didn’t want to take the time to quiz the girl at the register about their flavors as a few boys coming from soccer practice stood behind me.

I waited for my order to come up and thought about how wings really do bring people together, everyone in J Buffalo Wing was from a different background and age. I get my order and walk out to my car. The RIDICULOUS part of me wanted to call one of my Brookhaven Betty friends and say, “See! Buford Highway isn’t scary! I went INSIDE a restaurant alone and no one attacked me! You can do it too! We can unite all kinds of people for Buffalo wings!”

I know how this all sounds. I know who I am. But, I want more people to be united by food and not divided based on what side of the road they live on. I get weary of being disappointed in what I hear (specifically) white women say. Believe me, my mother calls all the time to tell me about how women JUST LIKE ME are being raped and murdered all day long. I am cognizant of safety but I am more scared of what an upper-middle class white guy at a Buckhead bar will do to me than a Hispanic guy walking to and from work on Buford Highway. The only risk of getting wings, alone on a sunny Monday evening is that they may not be the best in town.

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These wings weren’t bad but I didn’t agree with the sign. I can honestly say I have had worse wings on the Brookhaven part of my street and almost double the price. They were average with not much sauce. This post would have ended beautifully if the wings were truly the best and I could rub it in everyone’s face, but the reality is…they were a bit below average but I am really glad I tried them.

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