It’s called Sixth Street, though we like to think of it as the Meat-Packing District. It ain’t the subtlest spot in town to cruise, but who needs subtlety with that many bodies and that much booze – the two ingredients most helpful for all genders, great and small, in the mood for a macking? From frat boys and go-go girls to tattooed tarties and indie rockers stumbling out of clubs hungry for a piece of pizza, all are all but guaranteed to find a nice piece of something else, too, if you get our drift. And we can’t imagine how you wouldn’t.
between I-35 and Congress
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