Gas Stations Aren’t Gas Stations Anymore

I worked at a Texico station in high school.  It had a three-bay garage where we serviced cars, a tiny office, and restrooms.

We sold gasoline, windshield wipers, oil, filters, tires, and the like.  We didn’t sell anything that wasn’t car related.  No food.  No drinks.  In the bays, we changed oil, filters, tires, and the like.

When customers came in for fuel, we pumped the gas, checked the tires and oil, and washed windshields.  If needed, we’d add oil, inflate tires, and change windshield wipers.

I don’t remember exactly when gas stations started changing, but they did.  They started selling sodas and snacks.  They stopped pumping the fuel, checking tires, washing the windshield, and servicing cars.  You’d be hard pressed to find a gas station that will change your oil today. 

They became larger, more open, cleaner, better lit, and more welcoming.  Some added delis.  Some added restaurants.  Eventually, gas stations completed their transition from gas stations to convenience stores that also sold gasoline.  It was a transition from an auto-centric business model to a driver-centric business model.

When we visited Panacea Florida, we ate a fresh breakfast at a Rocky’s just about every day we were there.  They sold all sorts of other stuff, including fishing rods and gear, blankets, and purses.  The restrooms were as clean as any we’d ever seen.  It wasn’t Little America, but it was a cool gas station.

I first visited Little America with my parents and siblings in 1962.  It is on Interstate 80 in Wyoming, not near anything else.  Out on the plains, it was a truck stop really.  But it was said to be the biggest gas station in America.  We ate a meal on a cold and windy day that trip.  Today, it includes a hotel, gift shop, and a very nice restaurant.

Little America was the coolest gas station in the United States.

Last winter, we stopped at a brand new Buc-ee’s in Georgia on the way home from a Florida trip.

The place was massive.  It had a long row of gas pumps.  The was no chance of me counting them.  I asked the person who greeted us as we entered how many pumps there were.  I can’t remember if it was 100 or 125.  Either way, that’s a lot of pumps.

Inside, it was huge.  The restrooms alone have a larger footprint than some old gas stations.  I wish I could say for sure how many urinals and stalls in the men’s restroom, but attempting to count them would be just too weird.  I estimate 20 of each.  There’s an attendant in it, apparently all the time, keeping it clean.

I also wish I knew how many people work there.  My guess is well over 100, and every one of them is friendlier than expected.  They must have a heck of a training program along with certain termination for rudeness.  If they were any friendlier, it would be creepy.

I couldn’t tell you everything they sell.  It includes clothing, thousands of things your doctor doesn’t want you to eat, things to hang on your wall, stuffed animals, knickknacks.  Even smokers. 

For my California friends, a smoker is not someone who smokes.  Smokers are used to smoke meat.  It’s the preferred method for cooking meat in the South. 

Then, there are the performances.  Every now and then a loud celebration erupts.  It has something to do with food.  All the workers let out a rousing cheer.

All in all, Buc-ee’s is an all-new business model.  At least it part, it’s a destination, an event.  Is it the future?  Certainly, they are expanding quickly.  There must be a dozen companies trying to figure out how to compete with them.

My guess is that the model works great along the interstates.  I don’t think it will work at your neighborhood station.  High land costs and relatively low demand probably make it impractical.  Then again, if someone in 2000 told me that I would be going to a place like Buc-ee’s in 2024, I’d have said no chance.