The only steakhouse of Sulphur Springs, Texas, does steak night on Saturdays. We get there at about 7.
The door opens with a loud creak. Diners look up from their rib-eyes and dinner rolls. They gaze at us from under the brims of their hats. Even the deer mounted on the wall fix their dead stare on us.
We sit down at the nearest available table. Everybody gets stuck in again. It feels like we are in an old Western film.
The door opens again with a loud creak. Patrons look up. Some smile and greet the newcomers.
Then it hits me. These people weren’t hostile, they were just curious.