My co-worker was wearing the exact same T-shirt as me, in the same town, in the same office. What are the chances that two grown men would simultaneously wear navy T-shirts with the iconic beaver mascot of a large format gas station company?

As we laughed off the coincidence, I realized Buc-ees has successfully transformed one of the worst experiences in travel into a cultural phenomenon.

We’ve all been on that family road trip. After a couple hours on the highway, it’s time to refuel and stretch our legs. Most gas stations are eminently forgettable. I recall the worst ones vividly. Metal rollers slowly cook nondescript meat products into a hellish oblivion. The fountain drink machine just screams for a hazmat team.

If you run out of gas in the wrong place, you might end up with a refrigerator full of nightcrawlers next to fried chicken that’s been under a heat lamp for twelve hours.

The lesser-known 10th circle of hell in Dante’s Inferno is actually a gas station bathroom.

Buc-ees' bathrooms alone make the experience worth it

Even in a decent gas station, the bathroom makes you question whether you should have used a bottle in your car instead.

Once committed to a suspect bathroom, questions flood the mind. Did I check toilet paper availability before I took a seat? Is the abomination percolating in the out-of-order stall self-aware? Who is Staci and why should I call her for a good time? Why do satanists and Nazis feel the need to poorly etch their logos in gas station bathrooms across the nation?

To make matters worse, air conditioning in a Southern bathroom is far from certain. I can’t think of a more barren hellscape than a gas station sauna potty.

Pop quiz:Where do presidents vacation and hold historic events? Answer: Camp David.

In contrast, Buc-ees has an art gallery on the way into the bathroom. From patriotic wood carvings to Western motifs, the entrance to the Buc-ees bathrooms is entirely different. Upon arrival, traffic controllers direct patrons to the next available stall, which is cleaner than my home bathrooms.

In fairness, I live with four boys, so my standards may not be particularly high.

There are products like beef jerky to entice adults and children alike

If Buc-ees failed to offer anything else, they’d still be head and shoulders above the other gas stations. Once visitors thoroughly wash their hands in sinks that don’t look like they’d make hands dirtier, they have so many options.

Let’s start with the fountain drinks. I didn’t know that many options actually existed. Mixing Dr Pepper with Buc-ees’ own Piña Colada soda isn’t on the keto diet, but the combination tastes incredible. If “dirty soda” isn’t in the cards, try the Pineapple Dream or Orange Cream.

Joey Chestnut has been robbed.There's no such thing as a plant-based hot dog.

In our last stop at the store in Athens, Alabama, my boys raided the massive candy selection, my wife checked out the homemade fudge, and I spotted the jerky counter. The cherry maple and jalapeño honey flavors are excellent. If you’re not sure, the staff will let you try some different flavors.

Just ask a traditional gas station to let you try the jerky. See how that goes.

Still not enough? The Buc-ees staff is constantly letting you know that there’s hot brisket on the board. They’ve got every hot sandwich from smoked barbecue to a Philly cheesesteak.

Buc-ees offers so much that it’s easier to experience than explain. At certain locations, Buc-ees even sells bagged corn to put out on deer plots. Where else can you pick up a fire pit, a board game and pickled quail eggs while filling up on gas?

I’m not sure who needs 7 pounds of bacon grease, but Buc-ees sells it.

I was willing to serve as a glorified bill board for Buc-ees

At first, I didn’t get all the fuss. Buc-ees is still fundamentally a gas station. Why would people drive significantly out of their way on vacation just to stop at one?

The answer is in the T-shirt I bought.

I don’t typically buy gas station apparel.

My manager let me keep my Texaco collared shirt when I worked at the Brentwood location in high school. Years ago, I bought a black T-shirt depicting a wolf howling at a full moon against a dreamcatcher background. Native American arrows also flew through the night sky.

Was it a hunt? Was it a dream? We may never know, but the redneck in me had to have it.

When I visited Buc-ees, I bought a simple branded T-shirt. Why was I willing to serve as a walking billboard for a glorified gas station?

Buc-ees is more than a gas station. It is now a shared experience. After COVID-19 and years of political gaslighting, we need something in common to hold our society together. It doesn’t really matter if it’s college football, a social club or beaver nuggets. The magic of Buc-ees is sharing your favorite drink combinations with a stranger, discussing the virtues of jerky with your neighbor, and bringing grandma some excellent fudge. There’s something glorious about a parking lot full of people interacting, laughing and then moving on wherever the road takes them.

As I was driving home last week, I saw an old pickup ahead of me. The truck sported a Buc-ees bumper sticker that read, “Smiles for miles,'' next to the mug of the iconic beaver. America could use a little more positivity. We need a little more togetherness. My office colleague and I both want to be a part of it.

One of us needs to get a new T-shirt.

USA TODAY Network Tennessee columnist Cameron Smith is a Memphis-born, Brentwood-raised recovering political attorney who worked for conservative Republicans. Contact him at [email protected] or @DCameronSmith on X, formerly known as Twitter. This column originally appeared in The Tennessean.