A High-Trust Oasis

Or at least the feeling of one.

Most places in America have their regional chains of various gas stations, coffee shops, and other food franchises that distinctly give their location away. From Wawa to Boston suburb roots of Dunkin’ Donuts to the popular fandom clashes of California and Texas fighting between In-N-Out Burger versus Whataburger respectively. The Canadians have their Tim Hortons, and Oklahoma and North Texas have the best-kept secret of Braum’s.

However, one of these regional brands, which had its humble start here in Texas, has seen explosive growth throughout the American South in the last decade, and this chain is none other than Buc-ee’s.

Before we can get to the famous chain with its beaver-ish charms, one needs to look at the founder, Arch Alpin III. His family originally hails from Louisiana, with a strong entrepreneurial bent in the bloodline. Arch “Beaver” Alpin III descends from those who ran a little shop in Catahoula Parish, although he would attend and graduate from Texas A&M in 1980. According to an interview from Texas Monthly, Alpin thought that he would be getting to build skyscrapers rather than a convenience store empire. Two short years later, in 1982, the first Buc-ee’s (nothing like the one you’ve probably been to) appeared in the small town of Clute, Texas.

Beaver Alpin and his business partner Don Wasek have reaped the rewards of a conservative, slow expansion, relying on the reputation and cleanliness of their stores that have enabled them to appreciate the fanfare and the profits. At the time of writing this piece, there are fewer than 50 Buc-ee’s locations throughout the United States. Compare this to 7-Eleven, which has almost 9,500 locations in the United States. Like Apple or Mercedes-Benz, the Beaver logo has quite the luxury brand behind it. Anyone who’s been to one will see the wave of merchandising, brisket, coffee, desserts, and hospitality found at no other kind of gas station or convenience store. To those who haven’t been yet, I describe it as the “Chick-fil-A of Gas Stations” for a reason.

One of its charming features, besides the prohibition on 18-wheelers, is that they possess the cleanest bathrooms in America, at least according to a contest hosted by the Cintas Corporation a few years ago. I can attest to it, as someone who often stops by whenever I find myself in the Dallas-Fort Worth Area. You can’t help but feel as though you’ve left the dregs of the city for a shining oasis in the desert of the real — that “Welcome In” that’s said as people enter the store, the cadence of those working the sandwich stand when “Fresh Brisket” is on the board, and (depending on your location) sporting goods equipment for tubing and boating can be found. You’re left speechless at just how damn nice the place is, and despite the changing demographics of Texas, the store has an odd sensation that this is a place where a high-trust society (or at least the semblance of one) is still around.

This doesn’t mean that the company is all perfect or peachy keen to your sensibilities. Like any mass chain or popular franchise, it will be crowded, huge crowds will congest the store as they rush for selfies with the mascot, people will take too long in the stalls, etc. Of course, this doesn’t mean that at certain hours it isn’t filled with the worst-behaved people, but even then things are still relatively calm. Despite the chain’s welcoming appearance, one kind of goes through one’s own ordeal of civility when seeing a place that keeps to its reputation on cleanliness, order, and Southern Hospitality.

Of course, Buc-ee’s is seeing expansion beyond the American South, but as you walk through the place, you will see flatware, plates, and the often-memed “Live Laugh Love” signs, along with the things you’d see in or on any middle-class White family’s home below the Mason-Dixon Line.

Fun Fact: The first time I was recognized IRL as The Prudentialist was at a Buc-ee’s.

“Live Laugh Love” kitsch aside, it’s safe to say that, despite the demographics of the state, Buc-ee’s is identifiably White from the moment you walk in, similar to Cracker Barrel or the McAllister’s Deli chain. Yet at the same time, this doesn’t mean that you’re safe from the outside mores of pop culture. On the last several occasions I’ve gone into the Buc-ee’s closest to me, it has been littered with nothing but Yellowstone (the TV show) merchandise.

However, given their ability to maintain a semblance of clean places and reasonable prices while also being able to pay their entry-level employees a decent hourly wage, you can’t help but cheer on the success of this Beaver-themed franchise. Although in the back of my mind I know, every time I walk in and feel the refreshing reprieve of being away from the outside world, and when I walk back to my car with my brisket taco and coffee in hand, that what feels like Mayberry is just the side effect of a well-tailored and well-oiled business machine. It’s not like that everywhere else, but Beaver Alpin and Don Wasek have set the standard for how any business should go forward: high standards, clean places, and an infectious, hospitable charm.