Running on fumes for the past few miles—both literally and figuratively—I pulled in to the EZ Shop at the corner of N.W. 50th and N. May for a moderately quick fill-up. Having grown up in this area with the former Conoco station, sadly, such a formative part of my burgeoning youth for so very long, as my boots touched ground, I was quickly reminded of that old book by Thomas Wolfe and sighed to myself.
It had been nearly twenty years since I was last here and it showed. Taking a deep enough breath, I headed inside, opening the glass-door marked with a Martin Luther-esque edict regarding teenagers and their sagging pants. Jeans pulled up high, I remembered how my brother and I would walk here just about everyday after school, scrounging our loose change and found dollars together for comic books and snack cakes, maybe even a soda to split if there was enough.