“Who are all of these white people with man buns?” asked my friend, an international student at the State University of New York at Buffalo, as I slowed the car and scanned the area for an open parking space. “We’re on Elmwood,” I answered offhandedly, as if that should be explanation enough. To a Buffalo native, to venture to the Elmwood strip on a Saturday morning is an act of bravery. You will encounter pedestrians of all kinds, brunchers, dog-walkers, those who awoke at seven am with farmers’ market produce in tow, quite a number of bicyclists and, yes, man buns. I enjoyed watching my friend observe this phenomenon for the first time, listening to his commentary on the bustling village commerce that I go out of my way to avoid on my Saturday mornings.

Elmwood Village is a source of pride for Buffalonians. The strip boasts more than 200 boutiques, cafés, restaurants and bars, many of which are locally owned. Just a few months ago, locals fought fiercely when the arrival of a Jimmy John’s burger joint threatened their small business vibe. One of the city’s busiest commercial districts, its small-town charm is what draws these weekend crowds. Proprietors generate most of their business from foot traffic and put great care into the street-view appearance of their businesses.

I sit on a bar stool near the very back corner of Caffé Aroma, writing with my back to a dozen people—two of whom sport man buns—who are all drinking Stella Artois and cheering as Poland and Portugal battle it out. I left my belongings unattended as I got up to use the restroom (which, by the way, now requires one to ask the barista for a key; how very metropolitan). There is a sense of security in this café. A sense that could quickly dissipate by walking a mere few blocks away. I am within walking distance of my own school, SUNY College at Buffalo (more commonly called Buffalo State), which has one road, Rockwell Road, that runs directly through campus from Elmwood Avenue to Grant Street. The intersection of Rockwell Road and Elmwood Avenue is the location of the famous Albright Knox Art Gallery, a cultural gem of the city. The intersection of Rockwell Road and Grant Street is tangent to the largest parking lot on campus, and area where campus security warns students to be alert. Yet less than a mile away, the Elmwood Village is nestled in its corner. It is an idealist’s view of Buffalo—charming, neighborly, leisurely.

I have fond memories of warm summer nights on this street, sitting outside this same cafe, drinking wine with some friends who had just come from an astrology class around the corner. Every few minutes, one of us would catch a glimpse of a friendly face and the entire table would stand to greet this person, with smiles and shaking hands and the familiarity of dear friends. This is Elmwood Village. Do not be surprised if you see your best friend on his way to grab a burger and a glass of wine at Cole’s Restaurant, or to Mr. Goodbar for a craft beer and some vinyl-spun jams. I still have grainy photographs of lighting sparklers and watching the Independence Day fireworks from the second story balcony of a friend’s West Delevan apartment. You who have been here know the feeling.

I am still sitting in this café. I turn around and see the sun setting through the window. I, too, am taken in by the whimsy of it all. Never one to be too sentimental, I suppose that flutter is a result of the overflowing cappuccino I just consumed. Either way, please do not take my word for it. The man buns are waiting for you.