It’s not every day you get to brunch somewhere haunted AF.
I don’t know that for sure, but I made a safe assumption based on the exterior.
I watch American Horror Story. I know what a haunted house looks like.
But it’s cool. I ain’t ‘fraid of no ghosts.
As shown above.
So this place was cool – don’t get me wrong. The food was overpriced and not exactly mind blowing, but it was worth overhearing the banter of WASPy Detroitians talking about how “sit down brunch” was so much classier than any other kind of brunch.
“I thought there was going to be a fucking buffet,” their grandfather grumbled, taking a huge bite of bacon.
There was a dress code, which I was unaware of, but probably would not have adhered to. Sandra and Michelle wore dresses, I was decked out in my daily Justin Bieber/Ellen Degeneres casual, with black skinny jeans, tattered grey sneakers, and a grey tank top.