In the midst of a race to visit all 50 states, how eager would you be to touch down in Oklahoma? If the answer is “not very,” I can hardly blame you. Heck, even U.S. News & World Report, which ranks the Sooner State 43rd in its 2021 Best State Rankings, has your back there.

It’s the kind of place you probably wouldn’t go unless you had a specific reason. Like, say, if your youngest brother decided he wanted to go out into the world and try something new, and if, due to a range of factors, he wound up moving to Oklahoma City with one of his best friends from high school. If something like that were to occur, well you would have all the reason you’d need to finally check Oklahoma off the list, right?

That was my thinking, too, and that’s how, on a Thursday afternoon in early December, I found myself sitting on an airplane that had just landed at Will Rogers World Airport, rip-roaring and ready to take on all that Oklahoma’s capital city had to offer. The next three days would prove that OKC can be a pretty nifty place to be, as long as you know where to go.

Thursday

After getting settled in at my brother’s place, I discovered, as one does, a rumbly in my tumbly. Thankfully, my brother’s pal Matt had just the other day gotten a tip about a hoppin’ taco joint in Midtown. When we pulled up on Hacienda Tacos on North Classen Boulevard a short time later, it was clear from the jump that we’d made the right choice.

The colorful interior, filled with yellows, oranges, reds, and blues, made for an aesthetically-pleasing backdrop as we scarfed down street tacos and nachos brimming with carnitas, chicken, and barbacoa. Of course, washing it all down with a Dos Equis served in a glass fit for a margarita (and complete with salt around the rim) was the most logical choice.

Naturally, dessert at Kaiser’s Grateful Bean Café, an old-fashioned soda fountain and ice cream parlor just down the street, was our next move. Though they serve burgers and sandwiches and other café-type fare, we were there specifically for the ice cream — and, upon discovering it, the free tune selections on the ancient-but-still-operational juke box.

Following a brief siesta back at my brother’s place, the evening brought a visit to Remington Park Casino, which proudly advertises itself as the only casino within city limits. This is absolutely true, but it might also be one of Remington’s only redeeming qualities. To begin with, the gaming floor isn’t all that large. Even worse? There are no live table games. And even though this isn’t always necessarily a negative, the place just kind of feels old, if that makes sense.

Luckily, there are some other options in the area. If you’re truly determined to make your donation, you might consider Riverwind Casino in Norman or Kickapoo Casino in Harrah.

Friday

Rather than go out for breakfast Friday morning, we had breakfast come to us in the form of French toast, pancakes, sausage, and a good deal more from Black Bear Diner in neighboring Midwest City. Afterwards, it was once again time to hit the town — Bricktown, to be exact, which serves as Oklahoma City’s premiere downtown entertainment district.

Located almost exactly in the middle of the city, Bricktown is home to a host of restaurants, bars, and shops, as well as a movie theater, Chickasaw Bricktown Ballpark (home stadium of the Minor League Oklahoma City Dodgers), and the Bricktown Canal, where water taxis await passengers for tours and dinner cruises.

So what would we do first? Sample craft beer at Bricktown Brewery? Putt our way to glory at Bricktropolis’ mini golf course? Throw down some shots at Whiskey Chicks? Fancy it up at Mickey Mantle’s Steakhouse? The answer, of course, was none of the above. Because the first thing we spied after parking along East Sheridan Avenue were some Lime scooters, and you already know it was go time.

We scoot, scoot, scooted over by the Bricktown Canal before making our way west to Myriad Botanical Gardens, and then south past the Paycom Center (home of your Oklahoma City Thunder) and onward to Scissortail Park, a 70-acre expanse just off the Crosstown Expressway where you’ll come across ornamental gardens, a small lake, a playground, a seasonal roller rink, a dog park and more. Seeing as it was Christmastime, we also stumbled upon Santa’s sleigh.

Once we’d scooted ourselves out, lunch was served at Bourbon St. Cafe. The food wasn’t necessarily anything to write home about, but our waitress — a self-proclaimed “crazy cat lady” with the bubbliest personality in the entirety of the Great Plains region — kept us entertained nonstop, and ultimately introduced us to another server, Brett, who would give us the lowdown on the best gay bars in town.

However, before we could take him up on any of his suggestions, we had a game to catch at the Paycom Center. Lebron James and the Los Angeles Lakers were in town to take on the Thunder (the pitiful, no-good, better-luck-next-year Thunder, that is). Despite the Timothée Chalamet-esque locks of OKC rookie Josh Giddey bouncing up and down the court, James and crew easily dispatched the hometown team, 116 to 95. But hey, we were there to witness it all from our nosebleed seats — so, you know, who’s the real winner?

Once the dust had settled on the court, Matt’s lady friend whisked us away to 39th Street, a little area in the northwest part of the city where you will find a collection of LGBTQ-friendly bars and nightclubs, including the likes of The Boom, Tramps, and Apothecary 39.

Our first stop was another popular spot, Angles, where a drag show was just getting underway. One of us had been smart enough to nab a stack of singles beforehand, so we were prepared for that. What I wasn’t prepared for was my first drink being knocked out of my hand and the glass dropping directly on the big toe on my left foot, which then hurt like hell for the rest of the weekend (#sad).

No matter, I soldiered on, consuming my fair share of adult beverages as we watched some more of the drag show and eventually made our way across the street to Phoenix Rising, a much larger dance club. And wouldn’t you know it? While there, we ran into our buddy Brett from the Bourbon Street Cafe. He and some other new friends helped us dance the night away, before someone (we’re not naming names) was a little too sauced to stand on his own.

Saturday

The morning-after recovery process got underway at Jimmy’s Egg, a breakfast chain with outposts in various states, Oklahoma among them. I ordered the cinnamon roll ultimate pancake combo, and it was nearly the death of me (in a good way). After stuffing our faces, naptime back at the apartment commenced, with the soothing sounds of “Home Alone 2: Lost in New York” playing on the TV in the background.

Hours later, finally rejuvenated from the previous night’s shenanigans — and spurred on by Kevin McCallister’s vanquishing of the Sticky Bandits (née Wet Bandits) — we ventured all the way to the other side of town to take on Topgolf. Although Matt had made a reservation for a specific time slot, we ended up having to wait roughly 45 minutes before our bay was ready (it probably didn’t help that we showed up about 15 minutes late (grimacing emoji)).

But no matter! Drinks, merriment, and witty banter got us through, and before we knew it, we were sipping spicy bloody marys and whacking golf balls with everything we had. Our two-hour-long window gave us enough time to play roughly 2.5 mini games — just enough time to leave half of us sore from swinging a club one too many times.

Finally, though, it was time for the main event: Cowboy Ranch, a raucous night club on Kings of Leon Lane in Bricktown featuring that most western of U.S. pastimes — namely, the chance to show off your skills on a mechanical bull. After watching a few others go at it, including a man who opted to do his best “Look, Ma, no hands!” impression, Matt jumped in the ring and saddled up.

His turn on the bull, much like those who went before him, got off to a slow and steady start. About 15 or 20 seconds in, the man at the controls turned things up a notch, sending him up and down, left and right, this way and that way. At roughly 35 seconds in, he took it to another level. All told, Matt probably lasted about a minute before the bull’s increasingly herky jerky maneuvers sent him flying (not literally flying, but just pretend for dramatic effect).

I should have been up next, but I regret to inform you, dear reader, that the combination of intoxicants in my system at the time led to me chickening out. You don’t have to say it: I’m disappointed in myself, too. As was Matt, whom I later promised to dedicate my first-ever mechanical bull ride to, whenever that time should come.

We rounded out the night at a little place called Pretty Please Social Room just a few blocks west of Cowboy Ranch. A bit smaller than its neighbor, Pretty Please was kind of the perfect spot to close out the weekend. It was a lot less crowded than Cowboy Ranch, which gave us ample room to get all of the remaining gyrations out of our systems — an opportunity we certainly took advantage of.

They also had a cute little photo booth, allowing us to get in what you might call a millennial Kodak moment (or four). The results can be found directly beneath this paragraph. And that, my friends, is where I will leave you. Thank you, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

-LTH