It had all the makings of something ugly: notoriously destructive Eagles fans, misled by a naming mix-up into patronizing one of downtown’s most established gay bars. And maybe things would’ve taken a turn for the worse, if those out-of-towners had encountered anything less than a great watering hole—fast, friendly service, and a three-for-one Friday happy hour—and its imperturbable clientele of chill regulars. Perhaps these disparate constituencies bonded as groups that are often stereotyped by their depictions in the media. Maybe they made Tom Brady jokes. That they got along so swimmingly says a little something about those Eagles fans, but a lot more about the eagleBOLT and its patrons.