Texoma Livestock Cafe

This is when truck driving is good.  It's a Saturday morning in Oklahoma.  Texoma, to be exact.  Except that the state line between Oklahoma and Texas runs right through the middle of town.

A clear morning, large clumps of white puffy clouds have been flung across the sky.  Land is wide open, flat.  Visibility for miles, unobstructed.  The straight, two lane road takes us through numerous small cattle towns, most with grain elevators, all with railroad track running along the road.  Marching between the two are stately poles, supporting endless miles of power lines.  The only traffic seen, it seems, are cattle and grain trucks.

Nearly level land, semi desert, with hundreds of black and white cattle grazing free surrounds it all.  Everything is bigger in Texas.

But back at the state line, in Oklahoma.  The Trucker eased his rig onto the rutted lot at the Texoma Livestock Yards and Cafe.  

Quiet this morning, the cattle pens and loading chutes were empty, and  just a few trucks were parked here.

On the front door, a funeral notice taped up.  Probably a local man, a regular.  The block building was cool.

A well lit hallway with a community bulletin board and restroom entrances, also led into a dimmer and blessedly quiet cafe.

Very clean it was, with one waitress and one cook on duty.

A few locals sat at the tables, one group appeared to be three generations of men in jeans and billed caps, talking quietly.  Others sat alone, maybe truckers, just waking up for the day.

A small flat screen on one wall was tuned to a FOX News talk show.  The discussion was apparently on a situation where police were called out to a suspected case of child abuse, which was determined to be unfounded, yet left the parents burdened to prove their innocence to retain custody of their children.  Oh, do we have to hear this heartrending story again?  We are among the many who have lived a version of this nightmare, can do nothing about it and cannot get away from it.

The waitress was a young girl, attentive, efficient, soft spoken, with a ready smile.

Our food was before us in short order, and the Trucker was correct.  

Stockyard restaurants do have good food.  And plenty of it.  The most inexpensive breakfast on the menu was mine: one egg, scrambled, hash browns, ham, and toast.  All were cooked just the way it appeals to me.  The only regret was that I didn't chance the bacon.  Frequently it is fatty, limp, and looking as if it had been microwaved.  The bacon the the Trucker's plate was lean and crisp and perfect.

And the amounts, well, way too much for this girl's appetite, tasty though it was.  The toast and ham were saved, parked in the bunk's mini fridge, and will become lunch.

A small metal bucket at each table held utensils wrapped in napkins.
 

The top half of the block walls were painted red, the bottom "chair rail" was corrugated metal - looked like roofing tin.  Air ducts hung from the ceiling by metal supporting straps.  Small, Western themed statues sat on the windowsills, and paintings of the same were on every wall.  All was very clean, though not the latest style by any means.

On the way out, a stop at the little room with a cowgirl on the door was in order.  What a surprise!

The Trucker was envious when informed of this luxury.  Apparently the cowboys do not rate such considerations.

The Texoma Livestock Cafe will be a regular stop in the future, when the Trucker is in the area.  We'll be back!