Poor service doesnt come close to an apt description of this edifice of our petroleum dependant history. The disgruntled, petty few who jocky the counter here are silly, irrelevant humans who think because theyve seen several generations of vehicles starting with the first wave of non military motorcycles, theyre allowed to express their own superiority to anyone they didnt see at Lollapalooza. In business, its never so simple as the times they remember. Today marked the third time I had ever walked into this homage to the opening credits of Sean of the Dead, and the man at the counter, who hears just fine, now thrice has scoffed and rolled his eyes at me for not seeing cigarettes that are hidden from plain sight. I happen to have standards in my tobacco choice, and concurrently, my choice dont have a place along side the big name in cancer production. Yet still, that nugget of knowledge did not stop this elitist counterman fron giving substandard treatment to a person who helps to keep him employed. I may not have much to give but now, my loyalty, the commodity all too often discounted, goes to the closest bidder, not the native one.

The old man at night turned me away around 8 and said I needed to get more items or get out because I only had a 20 and it was to late when they close at 10. Unbelievably terrible service.

Great gas, very convenient location 🏁