An-ti-ci-pation

One of the greatest of the great pleasures in life is the buffalo wing. The Common Man, if he thought his arteries would be able to handle the fried fatty goodness without causing his blood to ooze instead of flow, would probably have this delicacy 2-3 nights a week. Indeed, were the buffalo wings good wings (chain restaurants with the exception of Quaker Steak and Lube need not apply), The Common Man might risk heart failure and gorge himself.

When The Common Man and The Uncommon Wife moved to the State College area four years ago, they had a dilly of a time finding wings of the appropriate heat and flavor so as to satisfy The Common Man's craving. However, one day they were introduced to the nice people at Bonfatto's a local eatery in Bellefonte. Bonfatto's is a nice enough place. It's clean, the food is pretty good and the beer is cheap. But on Thursday nights at 7:00, like the aforementioned Optimus Prime, it transforms! The wings, they flow like the river. They come in groups of six. And their pallette, while as spicey as you would have them, are like a Conga line on your tongue. Oh, it is good! These are, indeed, the best wings that The Common Man has ever had, and he has had a lot of wings.

And The Common Man gets to go there tonight. Why, in less than three hours, no less! And considering that The Common Man has not eaten all day, he is looking forward to the fires of the buffalo in his mouth and in his belly. He will pack The Uncommon Wife and The Boy into the car, drive rapidly in the direction of Bonfatto's, and dine in splendor with good friends of the blog, Verna and Steele. He'll be at his corner booth, drinking cold ones and wiping the wing sauce from his face. And you shall be jealous. Oh, how envious you shall be. Indeed, your head might explode with all the jealousy and envy. That, of course, will make The Common Man sad, for he needs all the readers he can get. So, uh, try not to think too much about it.