I live my life one gas station trip at a time. That’s not a bumper sticker (though it probably could be), but the plain truth of surviving Houston.
In a city where our public transit system is a rumor and our roads feel like a six-lane, free-for-all battle royale, I spend as much time swiping my debit card at the pump as I do anywhere else.
Forget about your favorite Montrose coffee shop or your decaying local library; the real third place in Houston is, whether we like it or not, the gas station…