Stuart On the Run Exxon

Standing at the gas pumps here cost me $ 9000. I heard the roar of a high horsepower car coming over a mile away. It grew steadily louder, burbling, and sighing as it climbed hills and coasted down them. As it came into sight, I espied my first Pontiac Trans Am, a white with blue striped, shaker hood equipped, spoiler bedecked, ground hugging, 1971 455 c.i. monster. A few years later, I bought a Trans Am, mainly because of that initial experience. It wasn’t the same…
Pay at the pump here.
Clean your windshield.
Go inside, and buy some lottery tickets.
They have hot food at their deli, and good sandwiches.
They have an area to dine in.
Bathrooms!
Pay phones.
Grab some pork rinds and keep on truckin’.
The Jeb Stuart statue is less than a mile away. At the bottom of the «hill» there resides wonderful Philly cheesesteaks. Get thee hence, «on the run.»

What? A review for a gas station? Yes indeed.
After we decided to take what seemed like it would be a shortcut to our destination, and ended up on the direct route to Deliverance instead, it seemed like we had been riding for an hour or more on less than a quarter of a tank of gas. So seeing a gas station, nay, a convenience store, complete with snacks and indoor bathrooms and pay-​at-​the-​pump convenience, was nothing short of a miracle.
Now it really is not all that bad. But when you are out in the middle of nowhere, with no precise directions, and your GPS is shifting between «there is no GPS signal» and «GPS acquired» so often than you have to turn off the thing for fear of going crazy, a simple gas station can be a thing of beauty.