It91Ƶs not snappy, shiny or modern. The green linoleum tiles on the floor look worn, the stencilled ivy on the wallpaper dates itself, and you won91Ƶt find any quinoa or kale listed on the menu board adorning the wall above the sink.
But the tall stools that line the counter of the little restaurant inside the Matchbox Smoke & Newsstand have been, over the years, a second home for many people.
That is changing.
The Matchbox on Hudson Avenue is on the move to Centenoka Mall to the former home of Lucky91Ƶs, where owner Wes Piggott is continuing to sell lottery tickets, greeting cards, tobacco supplies and e-cigarettes.
Piggott doesn91Ƶt want to talk publicly about the move, but confirms it should be complete in the next week or so.
While 23-year-old Frances Biggs has been the chef, server and right-hand woman at the Matchbox for the past four years, the history of the store is interwoven with that of her family. Both her mom Donna and her great-aunt Pat worked for Tom Hale, the previous owner, when magazines were in their heyday and e-cigarettes were just a glimmer in an inventor91Ƶs eye. Her older sister Tiffany worked there too.
91ƵA lot of these people have known me since birth,91Ƶ Frances said of her customers last week, before taking up her duties in the store91Ƶs new location. 91ƵMy mom had me when she was working here.91Ƶ
Every morning before Frances would start work, she would stop by Askew91Ƶs Foods to pick up the fresh produce she91Ƶd need for the day91Ƶs cooking.
She becomes particularly animated when she speaks about the soup.
91ƵI make the soups from scratch each day,91Ƶ she said, explaining customers have been asking for her recipes since learning the store is moving.
Frances says she91Ƶs both saddened and excited by the move.
On this Friday, as most Fridays, the soups were clam chowder or tomato.
91ƵFriday, people order grilled cheese and tomato soup. It91Ƶs an old-school combination.91Ƶ
The Matchbox would see different crowds of people depending on the time of day.
Some old-school, some not.
People from surrounding businesses regularly come for lunch, while the morning crowd is a decidedly different gang. Ken Tapp, who is sitting on his usual stool facing the Keno screen, explains he91Ƶs been coming to the Matchbox since 1990, more regularly since 1997.
91ƵI think I91Ƶve survived at least four people who91Ƶve passed away, and they91Ƶve all been regulars here. I91Ƶve ended up visiting them at Bastion, or taking them papers at home.91Ƶ
Frances describes the morning crowd, of which Tapp is a part, as 91Ƶrambunctious.91Ƶ
Former owner Tom Hale, Tapp recounts, had his own view of the spot where Tapp and friends sit.
91ƵHe used to say that the total IQ at the table had never exceeded 142 in all the years he91Ƶd operated the place.91Ƶ
Michael Ellis sits down next to Tapp. Asked why he comes to the Matchbox, Ellis quips, 91ƵSex.91Ƶ He quickly follows that up with: 91ƵWell, to look at Frances.91Ƶ Then, 91ƵWe come here for the good soup. Especially the soup. And we get regularly abused by the owner, Wes. Sometimes he gets brutal and Frances steps in.91Ƶ
Frances, meanwhile, holding her hands over her ears by way of demonstration, says she has become very skilled at not listening to what the morning crowd has to say.
Joking aside for the moment, Tapp says a lot of people come to the restaurant at the Matchbox for the ambiance.
91ƵIt91Ƶs an old-time prairie restaurant. If someone is looking for me, they will come in at nine o91Ƶclock and be very surprised if I91Ƶm not here.91Ƶ
And what will he do now?
91ƵI91Ƶll have to go along (to the new location). I91Ƶm writing a book and staff figure prominently in it,91Ƶ he says, glancing with a grin at Frances.
91ƵOh, that look from Frances will kill a hamster at 30 paces,91Ƶ he says. 91ƵThose are dark looks.91Ƶ