Never once in my life have I ever experienced the concept of peer pressure. Instead, my instincts have always led me to immediately, out of principled and passionate defiance, refuse to do whatever particular thing that everyone else is supposedly doing.

Several years ago I started hearing the pitch: “Oh, you’ve GOT TO check out Buc-ee’s! It’s awesome! Imagine the biggest gas station you’ve ever seen in your life. They have tons of bathrooms but they are clean. And they have really good food there too!”

I heard that from enough people to the point I actually added “going to Buc-ee’s” to my Reverse Bucket List; which contains the things I will definitely never do by the time I kick the bucket.

But, then…

I started paying attention to the Buc-ee’s billboards. Specifically, as I drove through Atlanta last month, I noticed how they confidently seemed to be mocking other billboards. After having seen multiple billboards advertising this one apparently legendary BBQ restaurant in the area, I then saw a Buc-ee’s billboard that read, “THE BEST BBQ THIS SIDE OF THE MISSISSIPPI”.

My wife heard me thinking out loud: “Well now I’m curious. They don’t take themselves too seriously, but they are also a little bit edgy in their humorous yet slightly obnoxious and unapologetic approach.”

That would be my first “sign” that Buc-ee’s was actually a reflection of my own personality and identity.

My wife then responded, “If you want to check out a Buc-ee’s, we’ll probably be passing right by one next month for our Memorial Day Weekend family trip to Georgia.”

Once we got home, Buc-ee’s showed up in my feed on YouTube. The video was about how Buc-ee’s is replacing fast food restaurants on road trips. How exactly are they excelling?

Customer service. Cleanliness. Efficiency. Novelty. Fun.

Buc-ee’s has established itself as the go-to destination for that specific combo of commodities.

As I walked through the front door of Buc-ee’s for the first time in my life this weekend, I was immediately greeted by an employee; somewhat in the likeness of the scene from the movie, Idiocracy: “Welcome to Costco. I love you.”

Without hesitation, I proudly announced to the guy, “This is my first time ever at Buc-ee’s!”

I stood in wonder and amazement as I took in everything I saw all around me. I marvelled at how quickly and seamlessly the workers and customers interacted. It was a mind-blowing experience to see how, unlike Walmart and most grocery stores these days, the multiple check-out stations A) actually had people working in them and B) the workers were proactive to call you over to them the exact moment the previous customer walked away.

By the time I made my way to the other end of the store, I saw such a pleasant surprise: A person inside of a Buc-ee’s costume whose sole purpose was to just stand there so people could get their picture made with him. I felt like a kid again. The logical part of my brain shut off and the thought going through my head was now, “This is the real actual Buc-ee’s beaver. He’s real! And he wants to be my friend!”

Now let’s talk about the “restaurant” aspect of Buc-ees.

I came up with a theory several years ago: No matter how nice or how run-down a restaurant appears to be based on the food and dining area, the condition of the restroom speaks the actual truth of the entire establishment. With that being said, I nearly felt like the Buc-ee’s restroom was too clean and sophisticated of a place for its intended purpose.

So from there, I was eager to go curate my long overdue designated cheat meal: Through careful deliberation, I ended up with the XXL Big Buckin’ Brisket sandwich and some roasted pecans.

With dignity, I chowed down my delicious Buc-ee’s lunch in the parking lot, tailgate style; as I was ultimately now a part of a community of other customers doing the same thing.

No having to wait for a server to bring out my food to a table. No silly questions like, “You still workin’ on that or would you like for me to get you a to-go box?…. Save room for dessert?”. No option to tip anyone for anything!

It goes without saying that my daughter ended up with a Buc-ee’s doll so big that she felt the need to give him his own seat in the back of the Jeep and buckle him in with a seat belt. And my son just had to get a Buc-ee’s bucket to use for all of his projects in the garage.

Funny thing is, we did just get back from spending a weekend out at a cabin in the mountains of northern Georgia. Yet the only pictures we took of ourselves on the trip were all at Buc-ee’s.

So… yeah. I have now appointed myself as a Buc-ee’s ambassador.

There’s even a rumor that my only request for Father’s Day coming up is to go back to Buc-ee’s.