Small Town Coffee Time

I grew up in a rather small town. The Dutch Maid grocery store tripled as a gas station and a post office. After morning farm chores were finished, the old men used to gather at the Daylight Donuts-without changing their boots. The smell was an intoxicating mixture of confectionary sugar, burnt coffee and cow dung.

Photo Source
There were no “salons” or “spas” in my hometown. I had my hair cut by a man named Noel at his shop that still sported a swirling red, blue and white barber pole.

Photo Source
We waved at everyone driving by-especially if we were on a rural road.
And a newcomer was easily recognized for the lack of the “two-finger-lift-while-still-holding-the-steering-wheel” wave.

Photo Source
That said, Biceps grew up in a town roughly 4% of the size of my town. They have one hanging stoplight-recently switched from a flashing yellow to a full-on green, yellow and red.

Image Credit: David Friedman/Getty Images
The video store doubles as the town’s tanning headquarters. And there is still no place with Wi-fi when one certain blogger goes to visit. (me).

I miss my small town-I even miss Bicep’s small town. Just a short drive outside of Tulsa, I find a bit of that flavor once again in Muskogee. Biceps began the Fire Academy today and I decided to accompany him on his adventure.

I packed up the laptop, some snacks and threw on my comfy-but-cute shoes. The only free Wi-fi in Muskogee happens to be at McDonald’s-which is also the only coffee shop open before 10am.

After setting up camp in the corner on a hard plastic bench, I noticed a peculiar amount of gray hairs infiltrating the burger joint. This was their coffee shop.

And they knew I didn’t belong. It might have been that I asked for a ‘tall’ cup of coffee. They felt the need to protect their turf, slowly adding me to their circle, to make sure I was on the up and up.

“What’s a pretty girl doing here all alone at this time of day?,” one asks over his shoulder, as if I was at a bar at 2am.
“You look like Cher,” another states on his way to the bathroom.
“Well, Cowboy, what’re ya doing today?”, the first one asks of his buddy who just walked in. “See that girl over there. She’s working hard.”
“I suppose I ought to head to the library,” Cowboy responds, nodding in my direction. “I have a couple overdue books I ought to pay for. I remember the fines used to be a penny a day. Now, they’re probably a dollar. She is working hard. We shouldn’t bother her.”
“Mh-hm,” said my Cher complimenter.
“We don’t want to bother you while yer working so hard on your laptop,” said another. “But did you know that they threw my newspaper away yesterday when I left it for just a minute?” (I did not see the need for this information.)
“They don’t speak English. So he just bought another one,” said Cowboy.

And on and on it went. I couldn’t quit smiling, laughing and being just a bit nostalgic for home. The only thing missing was cow poop on their boots and donuts in hand.

Give me the Gelato and I promise I’ll be good.

While on assignment, (I have always wanted to say that), I discovered a tasty little treat in downtown Tulsa.
Mod’s Coffee and Crepes has everything your little sweet tooth desires. Let me just repeat the name: Coffee and Crepes. But then add to that list: Gelato, Salads and Soups. Anything that you could ever want is right there for the taking.
I am not getting paid by Mod’s, nor do I get any gelato kick-backs for this. I just wanted to share with all of you something that I found pretty dang cool. Pun totally intended.

The staff at Mod’s is unprecedentedly nice. I mean it-they are just darn good people. The niceness of employees at any establishment is becoming more and more important to me as I get old and cantankerous.

Mod’s is situated in the historic Philtower Building on Boston Street in downtown Tulsa.
The building is a gorgeous masterpiece from the oil boom era.

As I sipped my delicious latte, I gazed upon the marbled walls and the gold-encrusted ceiling of the Philtower. I pictured the hatted ladies and the suit-clad men that had hurried through these halls long ago; smoking cigarettes and reading newspapers.

The faint scent of a cooking crepe brought me back to reality, reminding me of the fact that I was wearing cowboy boots-not a fancy dress with pearls.

And obviously, the gelato is outrageously good. I only had a teensy bite and my stomach craved more…much more. Biceps and I just might have to make this a date night spot. If you are in the downtown Tulsa area, stop by Mod’s Coffee and Crepes.
You won’t be sorry.