In case anyone doubts me when I say I work way out in the boonies, take a gander at this.
To supplement this, here are a few other salient points:
The gas station is also the town’s restaurant and, since New Year’s when it opened, also the town bar (Ladies night is Tuesday!)
They have no way of knowing how much gas you put in your car from inside the store, so you need to remember the cost and tell them yourself.
While waiting in line to pay today a self-professed former(?) meth head struck up a conversation with me, and when he reached the counter asked if his elderly mother had been in the store (“You’d know here cause she’s only this tall [indicates a very short person] and she’dve asked for help carrying the case of beer out to the truck”)
EDIT: Stupid Tumblr not recognizing orientation from the camera…)