Thread: Buccee's

Bucc-ee’s, “It’s a Texas Thang”

It was dark when I departed the house, just a purple ribbon of light, trimmed in pink, peeking above the eastern horizon. The plan was to get through Houston before peak traffic congestion. I was headed for San Antonio for a couple of days work.

Clear of Houston I stopped at a Micky D’s for coffee and a McMuffin (Lady Wings doesn’t allow those). I don’t get them often so I really enjoyed myself as I headed west on I-10.

Soon I started seeing the Buc-ee’s signs for jerky, fudge and “Buc-ee Nuggets” ( !Buc-ee Nuggets!?). Spaced out, every so many miles, (109 to go, then 85, then 55 and on and on) they entertained me as the miles rolled beneath my wheels.

As I drove on I recalled a recent posting on one of my forums about ABC profiling them on the evening news, “really clean bathrooms” was one of the attraction. Well...soon I came on another Buc-ee’s sign saying “can you hold it” and I understood what they meant! I had to go! Remember that big cup of Micky’s java?

Now the signs took on a different meaning! I really wanted to stop there, to see what all the fuss was about, AND I really needed to go...which one would win out?

The miles crept by, the speed increased from my leisurely cruise to a more gas guzzling one... a race against time and nature!
Finally I crested a hill and there it was, like an oasis shimmering in the distance...I’d made it!

Kinda anticlimactic from here on...yes they have very nice bathrooms (ahhhhhh!) and a great variety of shopping (good thing Lady Wings wasn’t with me), they even had a $3,000.00 mesquite rocker!

I managed not to buy anything, but more coffee and headed on my way.

Now I can say I’ve stopped at Bucc-ee’s....”It’s a Texas Thang (that’s what the sign said) ya know.”

My one crit is that, if he got coffee right outside of houston, he would have needed to pee waaaay before he got to Buccee's.

Just kidding, this was funny. Me and my friends drove from Houston to New Braunfels a couple weeks ago and took pictures of all the Buccee's signs along the way. The best was 'you don't sausage a place', which I still don't get but I'm throwing it out as a question to all the philosophy majors I know. Good times.

badjoke,
If you were traveling east of Houston, I'd guess that "you don't sausage a place" would be the Cajun-English dialect at play (standard English: "You never saw such a place!") but since you headed west, I can only imagine it has a German meaning since New Braunfels was founded by Germans immigrants in the 1800's. Couldn't help thinking about it - I'm a philosophy major.

If you were traveling east of Houston, I'd guess that "you don't sausage a place" would be the Cajun-English dialect at play (standard English: "You never saw such a place!") but since you headed west, I can only imagine it has a German meaning since New Braunfels was founded by Germans immigrants in the 1800's. Couldn't help thinking about it - I'm a philosophy major.

Seawing's post brings back memories. Back in the spring of the 1970s & 80s, I used to attend an annual conference in San Antonio named the NPRA - the National Petrochemical & Refiners Association. It was a big get together of executives employed in the world's petrochemical industry. Before the conference got going, most of we young European whizz kid chemical traders used to meet up in Houston, for a night or two of the high life down in the clubs, bars and restaurants on Westheimer. Until then, I never realised there were so many beautiful women in the world. It was a lot of fun.

Then on the Saturday morning we'd head out down the I10 at the ridiculous speed of 55 mph max in an American car vaguely capable of about 75 mph, that was if the driver had the nerve to put the pedal down to the metal. In those days back in Europe you could routinely drive a BMW or Mercedes at over 100mph but you never dared drive at that speed in the US. Apparently there were 'smokies' hiding below the horizon waiting especially to catch we foreigners. The surface of that dual carriage highway, each two lanes wide, was flat and dead straight, with barely a bend all the way from Houston to San Antonio. By our European way of thinking, the road was empty of traffic and represented a marvellous speedway track which seemed to go on and on, seemingly for ever.
I can't think of a similar stretch of road in Europe.

We'd all stop at Schulenberg which was virtually half way. From about 12 o clock, half of the executive management of the European chemical industry would call into the big restaurant diner on the north side of the road - I forget the name of it. There we'd meet up with guys whom we would usually look for in Rotterdam, Dusseldorf or Paris. We might even get together with a few New York Yankee traders - who mostly felt out of place down this far south.

Thanks for bringing back the memories Seawings. I understand the conference still happens but I wonder if they are still as much fun as in the old days.

Dv