Maureen and I visited Luby’s Cafeteria last week for lunch. The smell of the food brought back memories from my childhood.
Back in the 1950s, in Fort Worth, there were Wyatt’s and Luby’s cafeterias. It was always a hard choice for the family. Luby’s had the best deserts, while Wyatt’s always served larger portions. My Dad usually chose Wyatt’s—more bang for the buck. It was the Eisenhower years, and things were tight. That’s back when he was still a Democrat. I was just a hungry kid.
We took our place in line, trays aligned on the metal rail. I scanned the extra-large menu board for my favorite dish but couldn’t find it. I panicked. The platter I came for and have always ordered for decades is “The Luanne Platter,” and they damn well better have it. My blood sugar was low, and I could feel a rant coming on. Maureen rubbed a few drops of “Peace of Mind” lotion under my nose to calm me. Then, in the lower corner of the board, I spotted it. ” The Luann Platter, half portions with a roll – $8.99.” What the hell! It used to be $4.99 with a roll, a drink, and a slice of pie? Retired folk can’t afford those prices.
I approached the smiling lady server and, using my best old man-controlled voice, said,
” I’m not paying $8.99 for a half portion that was $4.99 with a piece of pie the last time I ate at Luby’s,” and I slammed my fist on my tray for effect.
Still smiling, she replied,
” Well,, sir, then you can choose the children’s plate if you are over 65 and/or acting like a child, as of which you appear to be. You have a choice of chicken strips, a hot dog, or spaghetti with 2% milk and a fruit cup. That will set you back $4.99 plus tax. And by the way, The Luanne Platter has been $8.99 since 2001.”
Oh man, the little Pop-Tart was really messing with me now. Her smile had turned to a slight sneer, and her eyes got beady. I leaned over the glass barrier.
” Do you know who Luann Platter is, young lady?” I demanded.
” No, sir. Was she a famous cook or employee of the month or something?” she said. Good Lord, this girl is clueless.
By this point, two other line servers had flanked the young miss in case I went postal. I faced them and, with conviction, said,
” Luanne Platter is the most famous character on the television show, ” King of the Hill.” An animated series set in Garland, Texas, and this dish you serve is named for her. Don’t you know who Hank, Bobby, and Peggy Hill are?”
The three servers’ young faces showed social ignorance. It was useless to explain. I collected my platter, and we proceeded to the checkout.
We sat in our booth, eating our lunch in silence. The food wasn’t as good as it used to be. The good old days are gone for good. My turnip greens were Kale, the most evil weed ever cooked. Maureen’s chicken was rubber faux, and my corn muffin was doughy and awful. We can scratch this one off of our list.
Leaving the cafeteria, a fortyish blond woman in the Luby’s uniform held the door open for us. In a girlish voice, she said,
” Ya’ll come back now.” I noticed her name tag read “Luanne.”
Notes From The Cactus Patch 