Boulevard beer and honest conversations

I cried when Boulevard Brewery changed their tour format and I'm not apologizing for it. I'm thirty five, accountant, which means tax season turns me into a ghost from January through April. The rest of the year I'm fun, I swear. I adopted a greyhound named Chester who is lazier than any creature has a right to be and we walk through Roanoke Park every evening. I want a man who has his life somewhat together, who doesn't describe himself as a serial entrepreneur with no revenue, and who can sit on a porch with me watching a thunderstorm roll in without checking his phone every two minutes.