For some it's been a home away from home. For others a place to sit and talk politics over a steaming cup of coffee or just simply grab a good meal at a decent price.

But today regulars and staff at the Buckaroo Restaurant will be mourning the end of an era. After 46 years of flipping burgers and serving coffee to the faithful, the venerable eatery at the corner of Church Street and Par-la-Ville Road in Hamilton packs up its Texas longhorns and faded cowpoke kitsch and rides off into the sunset.

Owner David Cauchi will today say goodbye to his staff and vacate the ground floor premises in the Leslie A. White building to make way for extensive renovations planned by owners Lesley Ann White and David L. White, editor of The Royal Gazette .

Mr. Cauchi, who has operated the Buckaroo for the last 27 years, plans to open a smaller operation -- the Buckaroo Too -- just a stone's throw away on Serpentine Road, in the former home of the Donut House.

But it won't be the same say restaurant regulars, who are reluctantly saying farewell to the Buckaroo's eclectic mix of staff, ambience, and convenience.

"I've been here 15 years and now I'm out of a job,'' waitress Charlotte Sousa told The Royal Gazette . "I'm going to miss my job, the money, and mostly the customers.'' Customers too, say they will miss her. Patrolling the restaurant's upper section, her "straight-from-the-hip'' manner made her the favourite -- if feared -- among the faithful. She's even been known to take a strip off Cabinet Ministers if they so deserved it.

Some years ago Buckaroo regulars honoured her with a few "waitress of the year awards.'' Touched, Ms Sousa hung the awards -- a hatchet and a couple of machetes -- in full view. "Charlotte's one of the main attractions, definitely,'' an unidentified taxi driver said. "Her personality is, how can I say this, unique and only appreciated by regulars.'' "Charlotte definitely had a lot to do with (us coming back),'' a second table agreed. "She's an institution.'' At "his'' window-side table meanwhile, former Minister of Transport Ralph Marshall seems resigned to the Buckaroo's impending change.

"It's sad. I had my honeymoon breakfast here, back in 1952, when Raymond White was running it and I've been here every day since.

"I'm here because the food is good, the price is right, it's right next door -- and they've got Charlotte.'' For the past ten years Mr. Marshall has been joined for lunch by the husband and wife team of Elizabeth and Andrew Caulfield.

Buckaroo closed "Soup, a quick sandwich, sometimes a full meal,'' says Ms Caulfield. "This place has a unique value because you're in and out in about 40 minutes.'' "This place also has a reputation as the political "deep-throat'' of Hamilton,'' said Mr. Caulfield.

"It would be nice if the National Trust asked Government to put a preservation order on the building, to save Buckaroo as a national heritage site,'' adds Mr. Marshall.

Three tables away two unidentified taxi drivers quietly sip their coffee and take a break from the Hamilton's roads and the driving rain.

Will they miss the "faux-oak'' panelling? The circa-1970's suburban cowboy decore? "I guess you've got to make room for progress. I mean what else can you do.

"Still, it's a shame. There's not much left where the working folks can get a good meal, grab a coffee and chat with friends.'' About 30 taxi drivers -- and countless others over the years -- have called the Buckaroo home, said one.

It's a loss of local culture, adds a second table of regulars, who wear the Buckaroo like a badge of honour.

"If you see someone looking at a menu you know they're a tourist.'' Thirty-year Buckaroo veteran David Corday meanwhile is getting ready to say goodbye to his second home.

"I worked here when I was 19. I'm now 55. It's really been my second home and I'm going to miss it, very much so,'' he says over a slice of pumpkin pie.

A breakfast regular, Mr. Corday says he'll give the Buckaroo Too a chance, but old habits are hard to break. "It looks pretty small,'' he said.

Meanwhile Buckaroo owner David Cauchi is nowhere to be found.

"He's busy running around, trying to get the other place ready,'' said his wife and restaurant cashier Mary Cauchi.

"And I don't want to talk about it; I just get too emotional,'' she added.