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Shane looked over at Ilya from the driver’s seat as they cruised down the Texas highway. He had nodded off about fifteen minutes ago, his arm propped in the window holding his head up. His curls glowed a honeyed gold in the afternoon sun, sticking out slightly from his backwards Centaurs hat. Shane smiled to himself, eyes returning to the road; Texas drivers sometimes drove like they needed to be somewhere. Yesterday.
This morning, on their little Texas vacation, they visited the Alamo in San Antonio on Shane’s request. It was…cool, if not a little underwhelming.
They walked up to the Alamo’s grounds, the iconic beige building standing in front of them with the Texas flag fluttering in the sky next to it. They waited their turn to take a picture in front of it for Instagram, and went to get in line for the tour. They paid $7 each for the guided tour and learned that the Alamo - or what’s left of it - is just the cathedral from the original battleground, along with some remaining barracks, but the cathedral is pretty much it. There were some documents, glass shards, and ammunition that have been found in glass cases around the property as well. At one point, they were also shown a video about the history of the Battle of the Alamo and then left to walk the grounds themselves.
“This is it?” Ilya asked quietly when they were inside the cathedral. “I can barely even see in here; it’s so dark.”
“Shhh,” Shane hushed his husband. “This is important to Texas’ history. People were massacred here.”
“I know, I know. I just thought it was going to be bigger, that there would be more to see.”
“Apparently, if you are walking around where the edges of the property used to be downtown, in some places you can see the old corners of the buildings and stuff preserved in glass in the sidewalks.”
Now, they were driving north to explore Austin at Ilya’s request. They were about forty-five minutes outside San Antonio when Shane noticed the gas gauge was getting lower than he liked, and he saw a sign for a gas station coming up. He pulled off the highway at the exit for it and was blown away to see an ENORMOUS gas station with about one hundred and twenty gas pumps in front of it, and what felt like five hundred cars zipping around the parking lot. He circled the station until he found an available spot and pulled up to the pump.
Shane nudged Ilya lightly. “Babe, wake up, you need to see this.”
Ilya’s eyes flew open, and he took in the scene in front of them. “What is this?” He asked, looking around at all of the gas pumps surrounding them.
“It’s a gas station I just found while we were driving down the highway.”
“This is no regular gas station. This is like the king of all gas stations! Look how many gas pumps there are!”
“I know!” Shane said, almost a little too excitedly. He got out and pumped gas into their rental car, taking in the ridiculous amount of gas pumps and cars around him. There were cars, trucks, motorcycles, RVs, people hauling boats- anything you could think of, it was here. When the tank was full, he put the pump away, got back in, and started the car to leave.
“Whoa, wait. We should go in,” Ilya suggested.
“Why, it's just a gas station, don’t you think?” Shane asked.
“I don’t think so,” Ilya stated. “I think this Bussey’s or whatever it is called must be magic or something to have this many people coming to it and to have this many gas pumps. Let’s go inside.”
Shane moved the car from the gas pump to a regular parking spot, even though it seemed like a lot of people were leaving their cars at the pumps and going in. It just didn’t sit right with him. What if someone else needed gas and couldn’t find a spot? They parked at one of the far ends because there was absolutely zero parking to be found in the middle of the store.
When they got close to the door, they found a little bronze statue of a beaver - the mascot - waiting with open arms to greet customers.
“Aw, Shane, is so cute! Take my picture with him!” Ilya gleefully tossed Shane his phone and stood behind the statue, leaning over him and propping his head up on the statue's head, holding his chin in his hands. “Cheeeeeese!”
Shane smiled as he took Ilya’s picture. He loved when Ilya was so unapologetically himself like this, so carefree and silly.
They went inside and were met with a cacophony of “Hi, welcome in” and “Hi, welcome to Buc-ee’s” greetings from the employees working the cash registers near this set of doors.
“Oh, my god, Shane, is ‘Buc-ee’s’ not ‘Bussey’s’!” Ilya snickered.
Shane laughed in response, looking down the length of the store. This place was huge. Standing at one door and looking all the way down towards the other end, the lights and the length of the store gave the optical illusion that there was no other end. It made it appear that the store went on indefinitely. On top of how large the store was, it felt like there were exactly half a million people inside, moving in every single direction. Some people would step right in front of you, moving extremely slowly, while others would zip by moving at the speed of sound. It was extremely overwhelming, constantly being bumped into and knocked around, but with Ilya at his side, Shane was able to keep himself centered and calm in the madness of this chaotic gas station.
They started walking through the store. At the end they were standing at, there were all kinds of coolers, medicines, and general items you would find at any gas station. But as they kept walking, it became apparent that this was no ordinary gas station.
One bin they passed contained a bunch of plush, rolled-up blankets with the Buc-ee’s logo emblazoned on them, the other half of the bin filled with Buc-ee’s stuffed animals.
Passing a wall full of ten different coffees and coffee creamers, they found a refrigerated display full of all kinds of fruit cups, multiple different sandwiches, different kinds of jerky, meat-and-cheese cups, key lime pie in a cup, chocolate pie in a cup, and cookie dough in a cup. Shane was busy investigating a sandwich when Ilya brought him a chocolate pie in a cup and a cup of cookie dough.
“I have to try both of these,” Ilya said, handing them to him before wandering off again.
“I’m going to find us a basket,” Shane called over his shoulder, already knowing how this visit to Buc-ee’s was going to go after their trip to H-E-B a couple of months ago.
When he returned, he heard a sudden commotion.
“Freeeeeeeesh brisket on the board!” Someone yelled.
“Freeeeeeeesh brisket on the board!” A bunch of other voices called back.
Shane followed the sound to see what the commotion was, only to find Ilya had the same idea, and they were both standing in front of something called the Texas Round Up, where employees were chopping up fresh brisket into strips and sandwiches. They watched them for a couple of seconds before seeing which hot options were available. Along the front of the display under heat lamps were chicken sandwiches, apple pies, sliced brisket, sliced brisket sandwiches, chopped brisket sandwiches, and more. They each grabbed a sliced brisket sandwich and added it to the cart.
The next stop was the pastry counter, where there were scones, multiple types of muffins, multiple types of cookies, and something called a Paddle Tail - most likely named after the mascot. They looked like a mix between churros and cinnamon rolls; they were so big. Ilya ended up grabbing a prepackaged bag of chocolate chip cookies, and they continued exploring the store.
Next to the pastry counter was a counter selling at least twenty different kinds of jerky. Shane could’ve sworn his mouth was watering as he looked at all of the options, and he practically had to peel Ilya off the glass. There was Sweet and Spicy, Steakhouse, Bohemian Garlic, Teriyaki, Cherry Maple, Korean BBQ, Peppered…and the list kept going. It went on and on for multiple cases. Shane ordered a half pound of the Cherry Maple, and Ilya ordered a half pound of the Sweet and Spicy before they kept moving.
On the opposite side of the Texas Round Up brisket counter, an employee stood handing out samples and selling roughly thirty flavors of fudge. Shane didn’t try one, but Ilya sampled the one with M&Ms on it.
“Mmmmmmmmmm,” Ilya dragged out his delight at the fudge. “Shane, we have to get some of this, too. Is delicious!” He made his point by licking his lips.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Shane replied. Fudge was just too sweet for him.
Ilya ended up getting a little container of the M&M fudge for later.
Turning around from the fudge display, they spotted a large wall next to the fresh jerky counter. Floor-to-ceiling pegs held pre-packaged bags with all of the same flavors available in the fresh case. They decided not to pick up more, but it was impressive to see all of the options together.
Across the walkway from where they stood, they saw that Buc-ee’s had its own home goods section. It was filled with all kinds of cutting boards, cookbooks, wine glasses, and various themed kitchen sets. It felt very southern and very homey. They browsed through this section for a while, showing each other the various trinkets and knickknacks lining the shelves before moving on to another section of the store.
“Ilya, look!” Shane said, pointing to an old pickup truck full of stuffed animals.
“A truck full of beavers, I love it!” Ilya said, walking up to it. “Even a giant one!” He pointed at the giant stuffed animal gleefully.
Behind the truck was a whole department-store-sized section FULL of Buc-ee’s-themed clothing items. Shane was looking at getting the red one with the Buc-ee’s logo on it like the mascot wore, when Ilya rounded the corner holding a pair of black pajama pants with the logo all over them and a teal shirt that said “Power to the Beaver” on the back. He had a grin a mile wide on his face, clearly understanding the double entendre.
“I’m putting these on right now in the bathroom,” he said, shit-eating grin widening.
“Oh, my god, Ilya,” Shane said, smiling and shaking his head. “At least wait till we’re back by the bathroom,” he laughed.
They continued walking through the clothing section, finding beach towels and blankets as well. They also found shot glasses, Ilya grabbing one of each like a collect-them-all situation. They found even more stuffed animals by the long-sleeve T-shirts; these things were everywhere!
Finally, they reached the other end of the store, where there was even a section dedicated to hunting. They had more coolers back here, along with camouflage jackets, hunting knives, fishing lures, and other hunting items Shane couldn’t quite make out from where they stood.
“Wow, they really have everything here,” Ilya commented, looking at one of the coolers on the wall. “Okey, I’m ready to go put on my new clothes.”
As they made their way back to the restrooms, which were the cleanest and most organized restrooms they’d ever seen, Ilya found a pair of Buc-ee’s slippers and grabbed those, too. Shane waited for him outside the bathroom, watching the crowds of people surging this way and that across the middle of the store, when lo and behold, Buc-ee himself came out, escorted by an employee.
Shane snapped a picture and sent it to Ilya, hearing a bathroom stall whip open and a loud Russian accent yell, “I AM ON MY WAY, BUC-EE!”
Ilya came rushing out of the bathroom in his new pajama pants, slippers, and teal Buc-ee’s shirt that read “Power to the Beaver” on the back, looking around wildly until his eyes landed on the mascot.
”Shane, hurry up! We need to get our picture with Buck!”
Shane shook his head, smiling as he dragged their cart closer to where the mascot stood, Ilya practically vibrating with excitement. He was next in line after a family with two small children who were, frankly, terrified of Buc-ee. They would not stop screaming and crying in their mother’s arms as she tried to console them, their dad trying desperately to take their picture.
“Do you want me to take it?” Ilya asked the man in front of him, gesturing to his cell phone.
“Oh, sure, that would be great,” the man replied, handing Ilya his phone. The kids settled down a little when their dad was next to them, but refused to stop crying altogether.
Ilya, the prankster that he is, took a few selfies on the man’s phone while counting them down, and then switched the camera back and took four or five pictures of the family with Buc-ee as well before they moved on.
When it was finally their turn, Ilya practically jumped into Buc-ee’s arms; he was so excited. Shane turned to take a selfie and saw Ilya clinging to Buc-ee; pure joy split across his face.
“Smile!” Shane said, smiling into the camera.
At the same time, he could’ve sworn he heard Ilya say, “I love you, Buc-ee!” Before beaming widely at the camera.
As they walked away, Shane turned to Ilya. “Did you just profess your love to a gas station mascot?”
Ilya stuck his nose in the air and kept walking towards the snack aisle. “I do not know what you are talking about.”
“Oh, my god, you did!”
“Okay, fine, so what? I love this store! How can you not!”
“I’m your husband! You’re supposed to love me, not some random beaver mascot from a gas station in Texas!” Shane laughed, shoving Ilya with his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, I love you the most, solnyshko. Surely, you must know this!”
“I do, but I wanted to make sure,” Shane smiled, looking at a bag of fried pecans. I didn’t know you could even fry pecans, he thought.
As they turned the corner, they found multiple kinds of popcorn mixes. Shane picked up the Triple Mix and looked it over. It had Caramel, Kettle, and Cheddar popcorn mixed into one bag. This sounded interesting enough, so he added it to the basket.
He turned the next corner and found Ilya buzzing back and forth along a wall of candy, all Buc-ee’s brands. There were sour belts of multiple different flavors, sour candies, gummies of every variety, gum balls; pretty much every variety of candy you could think of. And Ilya’s brain was short-circuiting trying to pick something. After perusing the wall of candy for FAR too long, he ended up grabbing the rainbow sour belts and some cherry sours.
They headed to the checkout, Ilya handing over the tags to the shirt and pajama pants he was wearing when they saw them: an entire end cap of something called “Beaver Nuggets.”
“They harvested the beavers’ nuggets and made them into snacks?” Ilya asked incredulously, picking up a bag to investigate.
Shane picked up a bag too, curious about the name. “I think they’re some kind of puffed snack with a sugary caramel coating.” He went ahead and put some in the basket, knowing Ilya would want to try them.
“Aw, moya lyubov, you know me so well, already putting the beaver’s nuggets in the basket for me,” Ilya said, planting a kiss on Shane’s cheek and making him blush.
“Don’t say it like that!” Shane laughed.
They got in the long line at the checkout — spending far more money than anyone needs to at a gas station — and made their way back to their car with bags full of goodies.
They tried the chocolate pie in a cup, the cookie dough, and the fudge in the car since they were the most likely to melt on the rest of the drive to Austin.
The fudge, as Shane had predicted, was good but much too rich for his taste. He let Ilya finish the piece he bought in one big bite. The chocolate pie was better, with pieces of Oreo cookies in the middle, but it was still too sweet for him. The cookie dough was his favorite of their cold items; it was a perfect balance of dough and chocolate chips.
Shane put the car in gear and navigated his way out of the parking lot and back onto the highway. Even the parking lot had a line to leave!
Once they were cruising along again, Ilya was digging around in their bag of snacks.
“Should we try the beaver’s nuggets?”
“You are so weird,” Shane laughed. “Sure, open them up.”
As soon as Ilya opened the bag, the sweet smell of caramel and — was that maple? — surrounded them in the car. They each reached in and grabbed a small handful, popping the little nuggets into their mouths. They were crunchy and slightly chewy at the same time, and sweet, but not overbearingly so. The caramel on the outside made a nice little shell to bite into, and they were, indeed, a little puffed corn snack. They were really good! Pretty soon they were both going in for another handful.
They spent the rest of the drive down the Texas highway marveling over the sheer absurdity of the gas station, pulling into their hotel parking lot before they knew it. Ilya checked them in while Shane parked and brought their bags in. Soon they were in their suite, cuddled together on the couch watching a movie. They were wrapped in their H-E-B tortilla blankets, now slightly worn from use, trading snacks from Buc-ee’s back and forth and discussing their favorites as the sun set through the window.