Lost Journal

Humor Column
by Tim Mollen
March 9, 2006

Gas Station Mini-Mart is a Road Trip Oasis

Journal Entry:  February 9, 1996 (age 26)

On every road trip, there is a moment when you absolutely have to take a break from driving.  For 10 miles, you’ve been stuck behind a huge truck that’s driving 50 mph in the passing lane.  Every radio station is allowing Bryan Adams to ask the most annoying rhetorical question in history.  (Yes, Bryan, I have really, really, really, really loved a woman.)  Your lower back is revolting against the hours spent locked into a posture that never occurred naturally during the long millennia of man’s evolution.  At moments like these, there is no more welcoming sight than a gas station with a mini-mart.

Today, as I drove from Washington, D.C. to Binghamton, I pulled into what has become my favorite gas station with a mini-mart EVER.  There it stood, like a glorious oasis in the middle of Harrisburg, Pa., calling out with a siren song about heavily processed snacks and caffeine.  With some difficulty, I emerged from my tiny Ford Escort like a praying mantis struggling to get free from its egg case.  It was bitter cold and windy, so the warm glow of the mini-mart looked even more inviting as I pumped regular unleaded into my car.  ($1.05 a gallon?!  That’s ridiculous.)

Then I went inside.  I had to purchase sustenance to get me through the long trip up I-81.  I needed at least one item from each of the three road-trip food groups:  stimulants, salty snacks and chocolate pound cakes.  I quickly found the stimulant I craved – a 20 oz. bottle of Mountain Dew.  Green is the most natural of all colors, but there is something completely unnatural - unholy, even - about the fluorescent green of Mountain Dew.  It looks like a truth serum used by alien abductors.  I knew it would keep me awake, if not honest.

For salty snacks, I faced my usual dilemma:  Bugles or Munchos?  Both are sort of like potato chips, but not quite.  Both have the satisfying smell and crunch that could only result from a delicate blend of preservatives, artificial colors, artificial flavors and mysterious bulking agents.  I couldn’t make up my mind between them, so I got both.

Now to the reason this is my favorite gas station with a mini-mart.  They always have a supply of the world’s most delicious, unhealthy and deeply satisfying snack.  It’s called a Chocolate Junior.  It is essentially a brick of cake, with milk chocolate slathered all over the top, and another layer of chocolate hidden deep within the cake’s mantle.  It is awesome.  But the best part about a Chocolate Junior is its name.  A Chocolate Senior would really be overdoing it.

I returned to the open road renewed, refreshed and relaxed.  It took a full 15 minutes for my back to start hurting and my temper to start flaring again.

© 2006 Tim Mollen

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