On my third full day in my new city, I happened upon Andy's. It was a match from the get-go, with ice-cold $3 Montuckys and $2 PBR tallboys. This isn't a bar where everyone knows your name (those places don't exist outside of '80s sitcoms), but enough people do to offer a sense of familiarity, of belonging. A small but mighty kitchen turns out breakfast, lunch and dinner and keeps cranking late into the night, satisfying nocturnal hunger pangs. Ordering fries with your Andy's burger? Go with the sweet potato fries; just don't let 'em get cold. The patio's prime spots are uncovered, at the far end. Enjoy the privacy; it's separated from the sidewalk and Cedar Street by a tall fence and dense greenery. If you Google "Spokane gay bar," Andy's comes up more than once. This, despite a lit-up ABSOLUT sign being the only rainbow colors in sight. It's more about tolerance and open-mindedness, about welcoming everyone and not judging anyone.