I like old gas stations. I don't like cars, and I don't like new gas stations. But I do like old gas stations and I'm sorry that they're all being torn down.
Old gas stations are the successors to the western town saloon with hitching post out front, cowboys riding in at the end of the season, thirsty, lonely, with a paycheck they're ready to spend.
Old gas stations represent America in the 1940s and 1950s. Survived the war. In fact, we were the heros and everyone loved us. People were exploding out of the cities to the wide open spaces soon to be paved and covered with stucco boxes. I imagine owning a car was a pretty big deal, must have made people feel like they were rich.
Old gas stations. Before they became Spas-Oxygen Bars-Auto Specialty Shoppes. Just old gas stations. They make me think of those movies like The Postman Always Rings Twice, or Double Indemnity.
Bored, isolated, sheltered couple living in conservative America, saving a few pennies, then along comes the handsome but slightly dangerous single man looking for some quick love and willing to do whatever it takes to make a buck. It sounds so mysterious compared to modern crimes: crack addict rips off liquor store. No romance there.