Buc-ee's

I bought into the Buc-ee’s hype. Mea culpa.

While I was in France for six weeks, a new Buc-ee’s opened in Goodyear, about a half-hour’s drive from our home in Phoenix. Kathryn and I made plans to visit when I returned to the U.S., thinking it would be wise to wait until a few weeks after the grand opening so that the initial curiosity would have subsided. Since the store is open round-the-clock, I thought 4 am would be the perfect time to catch the early end of breakfast and get in front of the crowds.

I was wrong.

We arrived around 4:05 am. The store was not busy, but it was hardly empty. Although the company’s website says breakfast is served starting at 4 am, the starting time is apparently more of a suggestion than a rule. There were a few breakfast items available when we arrived, but most were being put out slowly. No problem, we thought. It gave us a little time to peruse the rest of the store.

It also gave me a chance to use the restrooms, which did live up to the hype. Not only was it one of the cleanest men’s rooms I’d ever seen, but it was one of the most spacious. The urinals were spaced with enough distance that two full-grown men could use adjacent ones without bumping elbows. The toilet stalls had proper doors, reminding me more of Germany or Austria than of the United States. There were also multiple, stainless-steel changing stations for men traveling with small children.

When I left the men’s room, Kathryn had disappeared from my view. This was probably the first time I’d ever gotten lost in a gas station. I’ve seen a number of YouTube videos about Buc-ee’s, but the low, convenience store shelving you see in the final cut is only in part of the store. Much of the store has display units tall enough that a full-grown adult can’t be seen from the other side, and that’s where I found Kathryn — eventually.

Back together, we walked the aisles for a bit. I grabbed two bags of beef jerky. I had two other items on my Buc-ee’s wish list — something pickled and bacon grease. The pickled selection was disappointing — I would have tried the jalapeños if they hadn’t been candied — and I never found the bacon grease. The next nearest Buc-ee’s is over 700 miles away, so perhaps the distribution network was taking time to develop.

When we were done walking the aisles — and, not coincidentally, it was around 4:20 am — the atmosphere of the store changed. A wave of youths entered the store, along with their cloud of pot smoke. The young women — intellectual honesty prevents me from calling them ladies — were mostly dressed in tops that gave the impression they’d just left a club, but with cutoff jean shorts that were unbuttoned, with muffin tops spilling over, as if deliberately putting their high BMIs on display.

At this point, we started forming our escape plan. We still hadn’t gotten any hot food, which was most of the reason we came. We wanted to try the cinnamon rolls, but apparently they’re not put out until 5 am. The 4:20 crowd had formed a line around the brisket station, so we bided our time.

We did each leave with a brisket taco — mine with egg, Kathryn’s without — but not before hearing the “fresh brisket on the board” chant nearly a half-dozen times. If you’ve ever happened into a Walmart when they’re having their morning team meeting, you can appreciate the cult-like vibe it gave off. We paid for our items and found the exit before the Kool-Aid came out.

We brought a thermal bag to keep our hot food warm for the drive home. Sitting at our own dinner table and enjoying our breakfast tacos with our own coffee was the best part of the experience. Although they’re called tacos, they’re really closer to burritos in size. We have several friends from church who make a better brisket, but it wasn’t bad. When you read online reviews from detractors, there seems to be a consensus that there’s too much liquid smoke flavor. I’d agree, but not so much that it was off-putting.

I’m not saying I’ll never visit Buc-ee’s again, but I’m not in a hurry.