Back from Athens

I got back from Athens yesterday. I know you’re jealous. Don’t be. It was Athens, Alabama. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice enough town. They’ve got a fairly new Kroger, where I bought gas and a few groceries. Nothing that had to stay cold.

Why was I there? Research. Some due diligence on the finer points of the Buc-ee’s down there. It’s the closest one to us, just an hour and a half away. I mention it in my latest novella, Dub’s Dilemma (or maybe just Dub and Darla, I haven’t decided). Ideas?

Anyway, I learned something about that particular Buc-ee’s that I would have otherwise gotten wrong in the story. A minor thing, but I’m all about accuracy, veracity, verisimilitude, and a few other big words I have no business using.

I’m putting the finishing touches on the story but am waiting on my test readers (wife and siblings) to give me some feedback. They’ve probably got better things to do, though. I’m not waiting much longer.

To me, a lack of feedback means one of two things: 1) they haven’t read it; or, 2) they tried to read it, it sucks, and they don’t want to hurt my feelings. That’s what I get for using family as my sounding board. People assume I can’t take criticism, but I can, I swear.

Back to the Buc-ee’s, I would have gotten gas there, but the place has about 25 bays, with two pumps each, and I still saw no open spots. The ones on the end were mostly empty, but they seemed to be pumping a different kind of fuel. Different signage. I don’t know. There were about ten Tesla charging stations. My car uses gasoline — yeah, old school — but do those charging stations work for non-Teslas? I see now that the link to their website, above, explains all of that.

Walking into the convenience store part of it — the real reason anyone goes there — the manager, an Asian-American woman, had to ask a couple of bikers in Outlaws vests — leaning against a long row of something or other stacked three-feet high out front as they ate whatever they’d bought inside — to please not have their alcohol out in the open. It’s a family-friendly sort of place, after all.

If a fight broke out, it would have sucked me in because I was just a foot away as I passed. Luckily, nothing happened. The constant stream of soldiers coming out of the store and back to their buses might have helped. I don’t know. The bikers were actually very polite.

In my story I’d mentioned my protagonist sitting at one of the tables inside to eat his meal, but I learned that this place — this particular one, anyway — doesn’t have tables. That’s probably why those bikers were out front leaning while eating. So, I learned something. And, as the saying goes, “if you learned something, it wasn’t a waste of time.”

Something else I learned was that the local fast-food chain, Jack’s, is not the same as Jack-in-the-Box. I thought maybe the latter had rebranded itself — in this region, at least — but that’s not the case. They’ve got pictures on the walls showing the original Jack and, presumably, his sons from back in the day.

Anyway, I thoroughly investigated Buc-ee’s, inside and out, but didn’t spend a dime. Way too busy, and I don’t stand in line if I can help it. I texted my wife and daughter, asking if they wanted anything from the store. Tara said no, and Elizabeth didn’t get back to me in time. Once she did, she gave me a few ideas but ended it with, “You don’t have to get me anything, actually.” So, I went with that… because I’m cheap.

I saw a sign in the store I thought would be perfect for my sister’s ranch: What Happens at the Ranch Stays at the Ranch. I assumed it was for sale at its manufacturer’s website, Rough Cut Decor, too, but apparently not. It makes sense they would have an agreement to not sell the same stuff online that Buc-ee’s is selling in the store.

In keeping with the Athens theme, maybe next weekend I should visit The Parthenon, or at least its life-sized replica in Nashville?