Buc-ee's

Mighty Texan dam made of steel,
concrete, marble, and porcelain,
filled with liquids that stop
current to exchange currency
whether it be organic matter
from dinosaur or human ass,
but most likely derivative
of some kind of plant,
aged fine or crude or
on the back of a truck
traveling down endless line,
broken in paint, pavement, and
soon to be backs of people
on the long haul, hopefully
headed home, or at least
somewhere clean they
can take a shit.

Context

For a year of my life I worked for a small department store in Austin, TX as a delivery truck driver. My route was to deliver goods from our warehouse in ATX to two stores in Dallas, twice a week. Nearly the entirety of my workday was spent in the truck, scooting along I-35 through Central Texas. This is known as one of the most dangerous stretches of highway in the United States, due to poor road conditions, regular extreme weather, and a number of aggressive drivers.

Throughout my year in near-constant transit, I developed a special bond with one of the few oases along my route. A single gas station, time and time again, proved to be perfectly placed for resting, refilling my coffee cup, and relieving my body's bladder and bowels. The store became a part of my office, and the ALWAYS clean bathrooms a refuge for my over-caffeinated soul. I have long since moved on from that lifestyle, but whenever I find myself traveling across that accursed stretch of road I grow elated as I draw close to Temple, TX. For me, stopping at Bucee's is more than a simple fill-up station; I get to relive a time when a gas station with a goofy Beaver mascot was home.