Gas Station Delights: Breakfast Pizza

I found this one at the Break Time on Deer Park, just south of Columbia, MO.

DUUUUUUUUUUUDE.

If you don't think the food cooked at your gas station of choice is "clean" enough to eat, you are missing out on one of life's greatest joys. How can you go on a road trip with out sampling local cuisine on the same stop as your potty break? So go get another gigantic soda and pony up to the gas station grill...

Okay, picture this: you're spying the goods in the case. And then, you spot it... a pizza crust. White gravy, instead of pizza sauce. Mozzarella. Scrambled eggs. Sausage. Bacon. A little American cheese scattered throughout. You ask for one. The attendant pulls a slice out of the case and puts it in a to-go container. The smell wafts your direction. Your mouth instantly waters. You are hungry, even though you've been eating chips and powdered sugar donuts all day. But you know you've made the right decision. You pay, but the transaction seems to take longer than usual. Your breath quickens and your heart races. You hastily take the container and dash to the car. As you sit down, you take a look at the prize, but remember to not look like the Beast gobbling at his porridge.

You make it home and it is still hot. You slowly move it to your mouth and take a bite. And it is so worth the wait. The gravy moves through your mouth and the flavors of all the ingredients rush your senses. What a feelin'. Such a guilty pleasure. Such perfection.