You can talk all you want about the virtues of wings, but I’m a burger guy. I believe in beef. I like burgers medium-rare with swiss, guacamole and a tomato.

Steve, though – he loves wings. I’ve seen him eat wings many times, and I understand his willingness to explore, with all kinds of flavors and heat levels. But he’s more often than not going to order chipotle barbeque, and the new sports bar, Recovery, has great chipotle barbeque, at least according to Steve.

Again, I wouldn’t know, because when I’m in a place like Recovery, I’m going with a burger. And on this particular day, I’m adding on sweet potato fries.

“God, the wings here,” Steve says, predictably adding, “And the chipotle barbeque! God!”

“Is it too early for beer?” I ask.

“Noon? Probably,” Barry answers. I’ve never had lunch with Barry. I’ve had lots to drinks with Barry. But I notice he’s reading the menu intently.

“What you goin’ with?” Steve asks Barry. I’m fairly certain, even though I met Barry through Steve, Steve’s never been around him for a meal either.

“I’m not sure,” Barry says. “Just reading through my options here.”

I see an opening. I’m competitive, even when it comes to something as unimportant as which unhealthy lunch option to sell.

“Want my suggestion?” I say to Barry. “Try the burger.”

“Big mistake,” Steve says immediately. “You gotta try the wings. You can get a burger anywhere.”

“Yeah, and wings are rare,” I say. We’re arguing for Barry’s sake.

Barry is tipping his head back and forth, still reading, still concentrating. “Wings, burger. Wings, burger.” He’s going back and forth. More »