Why should slice of life be purely the realm of cute girls? Why can’t middle-aged men have pleasant day-to-day experiences?
Imagine, if you will, an automobile shop, run by a rough yet kind man and his friends. They’re all getting a bit old, but they would not trade their shop for anything in the world. Every day, between fixing engines and repairing brakes, they take the time to sit around at a small, rickety table discussing anything that comes to their mind. Though they may posture and ridicule each other, at the end of the day they know their friendship is stronger than anything.
It’s slow, it’s pleasant, and it’s manly.