7:11 AM – Departed Birmingham in the Cayenne. Spirits high. Spotify queued with a Baroque-to-Shoegaze transition I’d handcrafted for this leg. Almond croissant was passable.

9:26 AM – Needed fuel. Intended to stop at a boutique service plaza listed in Monocle once. Missed the exit due to signage obscured by “Freedom Church” billboard (font: bleeding copperplate). Forced into detour.

9:48 AM – Arrived at Buc-ee’s. I did not consent to this.

9:49 AM – Assaulted by fluorescence and merchandise. Rows upon rows of beaver-branded hoodies, “Y’all Need Jesus” tumblers, and something called a “Texas Twister” that smelled of cinnamon and regret.

10:02 AM – Ordered a cappuccino. The machine hissed like an angry possum. Foam texture: dish soap. Temperature: litigation-worthy.

10:06 AM – Needed something to anchor me. Saw a fleece. It was—God help me—butter yellow with an embroidered beaver giving a thumbs-up. Price: $199.99. I bought it. I don’t know why.

10:15 AM – Returned to vehicle. A toddler screamed “BEAVER CAR!” and pointed. I wept into my driving gloves.

10:17 AM – Noticed license plate readers at exit. I am now, presumably, registered as a Friend of the Brand™. I will receive coupons. I will receive ads. I will receive judgment.

10:30 AM – Back on the road. The playlist now sounds sarcastic. Nothing tastes like anything.

Everything is fine.

Just fine.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5747998&forum_id=2Reputation#49085224)