Ultramar

Oh hai, neighbourhood gas station! I’m going to Unilocal you now!
Yep. This is pretty much your run-​of-​the-​mill generic Ultramar with gas and candy and chips and subs and pop and lottery and all sorts of corner store junk that everyone loves but nobody admits. Seriously. Find me one person on a road trip who can’t find SOMETHING to love tucked away in on off-​ramp gas station.
The plus side of this Ultramar is the one woman who works there that always seems to catch me in the midst of my late-​night junk food runs. Despite seeing me on multiple occasions walking up to the counter with two bags of doritos, peanut M&Ms and a mystery deli meat sub (that one isn’t for me at least), she’s always been completely friendly and non-​judgey. Even though she’s usually at the start of her night shift around 11pm, she also manages to not exude hatred for life in general which is pretty much how I’d fill my time if the roles were reversed.
On the other hand, I always seem to end up at the one gas pump that fills you up at about a tenth of the speed of any other I’ve ever encountered. For those of you who go here, it’s on the outer bar on the right-​hand side when looking away from the shop. It’s pretty much the laziest damn gas pump in the entire the world.
«Hi pump. I would like some gas now please.»
«Ughggndfdfgghffhhhh. Fiiiiiiine. If you must.»
And then you stand there for eight minutes waiting for your sedan to fill up. It’s the worst ever to begin with and it gets even slower during the winter.