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Issues of Transperancy aside (and getting back to Shell stop):  Expecting only the smell of gasoline, we stepped out of the car and into an aroma & sounds-fest, greeted with relatively high fidelity (if one can justly use that modifier) country music blaring from the pump, anxious cattle making a racket from their trailer parked over by the Food Mart, and the air of a  stockyard.  The boys driving those cows to slaughter were having pizza for breakfest, except for the cowboy in the stall next to the "Health Mart" who serenaded me in his own way while I peed.

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