In Convenience

“The town that hosts the world’s largest convenience store smells like ass. For many decades, Luling, Texas, was regionally famous for its excellent barbecue, locally grown supersized watermelons, and the unpleasant rotten-egg smell of hydrogen sulfide, the toxic and highly flammable byproduct of its abundant oil wells. Some locals swear they can’t detect the odor; others profess to love the smell of their own farts, bragging that it’s the ‘smell of money.’ But today, Luling might be best known for a very, very large gas station. Four miles southeast of the town of about six thousand, rising out of the brush alongside Interstate 10, is the mother of all convenience stores—the flagship of Buc-ee’s, a Texas-based chain of ‘travel centers’ that has become a cult phenomenon and one of the state’s most eminent brand ambassadors. The 75,593-square-foot travel center—with its 120 gas pumps, more than two hundred employees, fifty-one bathroom stalls, nineteen urinals attended 24/7 by workers who flit in and out of an ’employees only’ janitor’s closet, food court of cowboy-hat-wearing staff chopping brisket, clerks chirping ‘Welcome in” to every visitor, stacks of deer corn, $1,499 deer blinds, and racks of in-house gummy bears and jerky—has the distinct odor of caramel-coated Beaver Nuggets. But really, it smells like money.” In The Baffler, Forrest Wilder takes us on a unique summer road trip: Leave it to Beaver.