Amid all this calculator-punching, Bob Dollar doubts that the spiritual essence of Dade Corners is going to survive. "They're going to be more bottom-line minded: Maximize every dollar," he predicts. "They were questioning me why employees had health insurance. They said, 'You don't typically see that in a gas station.' And I said, 'Well, we aren't just a gas station.'
"We are a family-oriented place," he reminisces, not yet shifting out of the present tense. "A homey type of place."
A place, you might say, where you can buy parts for a truck's bumper, a hunter's safety vest, and a mail box in the shape of a bass fish. A place where the bait man uses words like "loci" and "matrix." A place where you can ask for free coffee and probably even get it.