What makes gas station coffee so damn good?

Several possibilities come to mind.

• The dedication and talents of the smarmy-looking man behind the counter responsible for brewing a gas station's coffee. His name is Leandro, and he learned his trade from a reclusive wise man atop a llama infested mountain. When he's not percolating a perfect canister of java, he's rocking a pair of aviators in his bright white 1974 T-Bird while cruising for chicks. Although it's entirely possible that I'm making all of that up, one thing's for sure: he's got a totally rocking 'stache.
• Pumping a beverage gives it a certain delicate bouquet usually ruined by a more traditional pour.
• That's not french vanilla flavoring - that's the taste of melted paint chips peeled from the mossy side of Leandro's garden shed.
• The coffee filters are made of the same space age material as Hottie's weave.
• Substitute sugar substitute (no-name brand in a pink wrapper to look like Sweet'n Low or a blue wrapper to look like Equal) is really equal parts crystal meth, crack cocaine, and the dried tears of virgins sacrificed to the volcano.