Tom Jones Food Mart & Chevron

The gas price here was typical. But the lines were super long, not only for trying to buy gas, but also inside! When we tried to pull up to a spot, this jerk cut us no the other side and just drove up quickly and parked. If I was driving, I would’ve given him a piece of my mind…
I would say if the lines are long, drive to the next one right down the street. The price was cheaper and no lines!!!

«…Every now and then when your life gets complicated and the weasels start closing in, the only real cure is to load up on heinous chemicals and then drive like a bastard from Hollywood to Las Vegas…» —H. S. Thompson
Vegas is SOOOO not this kid’s scene. However, if you happen to be blowin’ through town anyway, and you manage any sort of legit encounter w/​Tom Jones, then you are Joe Cool in my book, my friend. Tom has got to be pushing what, 145, 155 years old by now? He won’t be out there, pouring his heart and soul and sweaty scarves into it forever, amigos. Go ahead, fill up your tank, grab a cold six-​packy at the Food Mart while your tank fills, Who knows, maybe you’ll catch a glimpse of him! Catch him while you can, any which way you can… before he sang it for the last time before he’s knowin’ up close ‘n’ personal those sweet familiar lyrics…
«Yes, they’ll all come to see me in the shade of that old oak tree
as they lay me neath the green, green grass of home…»

I filled up a sick motorcycle chopper here.