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And so, a narrative cohered. The Devil vs. the Angel. The Guy Who Hangs Out with Justin Bieber vs. The Guy Who Is Bigger Than Justin Bieber in His Home Country. As a society, we like this stuff. It unites us, gives us some fodder for conversation with our coworkers while we awkwardly count the hours until we can not be around them. We like having a common goal, such as "getting out of paying $100 to watch this boxing match the world has decided everyone must watch or else the oceans will boil."This is how I found myself, on Saturday afternoon, calling a Buffalo Wild Wings in Hollywood, asking if they'd be showing the fight. "Buffalo Wild Wings, how may I wow you today," an unenthusiastic Wild Wingsman answered the phone. "Oh. No, we won't be showing the fight, but Dave & Buster's down the street will." A quick call to my friendly local D&B confirmed that this was, in fact, true.Now, there is no way to enjoy Dave & Buster's "ironically," even if you bargain with yourself by saying it's the most American place you can watch two men beat the shit out of each other, or saying it's a giving in to our basest desires for arcade games and mayhem. Much like Keeping up with the Kardashians or methamphetamine, Dave & Buster's transcends lines of economics, class, intellect, sophistication, or lifestyle. You either like it or you don't, and it doesn't matter why. Whether you're doing it as a joke or not, you're still playing the same skeeball machines as the next asshole.
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