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McKay's Road Trip

Created: July 11, 2024
Last edit: August 15, 2024

What: McKay’s 50th Anniversary Ultimate Road Trip

When: July 9, 2024

Why: up to $800 in store credit for participants over 18

McKay’s↗ is a used bookstore with locations in North Carolina and Tennessee. They also stock video games, music, and more. For their 50th anniversary↗, they announced they will be awarding prizes to anyone who visited their stores that day, with a grand total of $800 in trade credit plus swag.

My roommate and I saw the poster during our visit to the newly-opened Mebane (née Greensboro) location. As locals to Winston-Salem, and having already visited several other McKay’s in our time (Knoxville, Greensboro, and Raleigh*), it was enticing. I balked at it being on a Tuesday. My roommate, who is a teacher, had no such issue. As I considered the pros and cons, two sentiments rose above all others: I only make around $100 a day and why not – when else will I have the opportunity to do something like this?

Our final group was three people: myself and my two roommates (henceforth individually referred to as Copilot and Backseat). I spent a day on Google Maps figuring out times and pit stops. By my calculations, taking the far end of the estimations, we could be done by 7pm in Nashville. We’d leave the house to grab breakfast at our usual going-places stop right when they open and get to Mebane a bit before 8am, when McKay’s would have folks out in the parking lot handing out passports a whole hour before the store opens. We’d dash back over to Winston, grab a stamp there, and fill up for gas before the trek to Knoxville, stopping at the Buc-ee’s just before the city for a bathroom break and to top off on gas. Then we’d loop down to Chattanooga and back up to Nashville, where we’ll have a bit of time to browse and wind down from a long day of driving.

Only one of these worked as planned. It was stopping for breakfast, after leaving the house ten minutes later than I wanted to. I thought, if that’s the longest delay we have today we’ll be doing pretty good.

As we drove down I-40, I noticed Tennessee plates. Just a few, and I jokingly said there’s a 95% chance they’re here for the same thing we are. Our GPS – which I had Copilot turn on to calm my paranoia of missing the ramp – pulled us off the highway an exit early in Mebane. “Well, this’ll be better than trying to immediately cut over into that left lane after getting off the highway there,” I said, thinking we’d been shifted by the regular morning traffic.

Wrong.

MEBANE

We sat at a near standstill in a series of traffic lights on the far side of 40. Dozens of Tennessee plates passed us a we suffered through trying to zipper into a lane that didn’t left turn only to Durham. Several vehicles’ back windows were painted cheerfully declaring the road trip, some with optimistic checklists. I watched as the GPS informed us we were eight minutes from our destination for half an hour straight. People had left their vehicles and were walking to McKay’s from the far side of the bridge.

I tried to entertain myself by watching the couple in the car behind us attempt to block their small, brachycephalic dog from the front seats by constantly adjusting a pillow propped on the center console.

Copilot suggested I park at the Wendy’s or the Chick-fil-A, but I was anxious I’d get towed considering both business were open. We finally got into a lane that wasn’t trying to take us east and I took the opportunity to dive into the completely free far lane so we could park at the Walmart.

I hastily sprayed on some sunscreen and started jogging to the crossing as my roommates questioned why I was running.

It was even worse across the road. Parking lots were full, cars were parked on the ramp to the Sheetz, and we’re all still half a mile away. A woman holding a McKay’s passport told the group ahead of me that she arrived to McKay’s at 7:30 – by my watch it had taken her an hour, even with arriving early. Cars were parked down the road bumper to bumper as more tried to get by.

I finally had the building in sight when I spotted an older man standing on the driveway of the house next to McKay’s. I approached him, the only person not headed toward the store.

“Good morning,” I said, because I am apparently turning into my grandfather, a man known for talking to absolutely anyone.

The man greeted me and asked if I was from Knoxville, because why else would a stranger beeline to you to make conversation? I was hungry for information. He said his daughter was down there in the line somewhere, having left the hotel before 7am. My optimism for a simple day, already low, was dwindling. I wished them luck and jogged down to join the line myself.

The line – should we be generous enough to call it that – wrapped around the building twice. Sort of. It wasn’t exactly clear how the line flowed. I followed the pointing of everyone in line and the trudge of everyone else out of it to find the end. By the time my friends caught up to me, the line had gained thirty people and continued to grow. It’s a quarter to 9. I send a quick photo of the insanity to the group chat.

So many of these people were from Tennessee. I saw plates from neither TN or NC – Kentucky, South Carolina, Iowa, Missouri.

The sun rose, baking us all as we wound through the parking lot, united in our misery. There are a few parasols and even fewer water bottles. A young girl declared, through her sobs, “I am never going to McKay’s ever again.” A man carried his Labrador on his shoulders, apparently impervious to the heat. Warnings were called as cars navigated through the lot packed with nerd-shirted humanity. I stared at a vehicle that was covered with what appeared to be a cleaning apparatus only to belatedly realize it’s the car from Ghostbusters.

Where was the end of the line? How many lines were there? Nobody knew for sure. We were a terrible Ouroboros. I heard tell the man directing people to the end of the line wasn’t an employee, but an unfortunate soul that was in a line that looped back into itself. Rumor said he was in line for an hour only to find himself at the end once more.

An announcement was periodically made that those with a passport from Winston can come inside the store to get it stamped. I marveled at the idea there are folks who have not only made it though a line, but also made it to a different city.

Data I looked up as I wrote this: it was almost 90 degrees with 70% humidity. Mebane** has a population of about 20,000. Contrast this with Nashville, which has a population of almost 690,000.

At one point we looked to our right and noticed the line that was once two wends deep was now one – it had merged with our line, cutting in front of those of us who had already suffered the back-and-forth. Shouting erupted behind me and eventually the line began to join behind us once more.

My party made it to the corner. I turned to my roommates and declared I am going to run to the Sheetz for hydration. Copilot requests sunscreen if they have any. I reconned the line on my way. We still had another loop+ of the building to go.

People who owned the houses off the road by the store had come out with a shaved ice cart and “$20 PARKING” signs. There’s a man with a shopping cart with cases of water and Gatorade selling them for 3-5 bucks a bottle. I passed a cop reading the license plates of the cars parked on the road into the walkie at his shoulder. I asked a pair also heading to the gas station if they made it through. “No,” the man said, “but they’re double-stamping in Winston so we’re heading there.”

Inside, multiple people were loading their arms with bottles of water as an attendant stocked the cooler from the other side. I grabbed a couple of bottles myself plus two Gatorades. There’s no sunscreen to be found.

I attempted to call the Winston location for confirmation re: double-stamping. At this point it was around 10:15. The line beeped busy and I couldn’t blame them for taking the phone off the hook.

On my walk back the cops were discussing closing the exit ramps. I passed a pair that’s part of the party in front of mine in line – they were also doing a supply run. I called my roommates and told them about the opportunity in Winston. Copilot confirmed the information via Facebook and others in line. We decided to take the chance. We passed the pair from the other party going the other way. They asked if we’d given up and I told them, “They might be double-stamping in Winston. Probably – they’re probably double-stamping in Winston.”

“Probably?” the man asked.

I’ve worked customer service long enough to not tell absolutes unless I know for sure.

During our walk back, Copilot had been pouring water over her head and shoulders and I have been sipping Gatorade. I suggested Backseat drink something, as she’d just been holding the Sheetz bag the entire time. She declined.

“I need you to either pour water on the back of your neck or drink something,” I said, aware of how little she’d had to drink today. As if I was going to have this trip derailed by something as preventable as heat exhaustion.

By 10:30 we’re headed toward Winston-Salem.

Winston-Salem

This is our home turf and we know better than to attempt Jonestown Road on a normal day, so we wound down back roads and stopped for gas on the way. It was blessedly normal traffic.

Going by my original calculations, we should have been halfway to Knoxville by now. Luckily, we managed to pull right into a parking space at the Winston McKay’s.

There were two lines: one for passports (or stamped paper, or whatever you managed to get) and one for those without (significantly longer). We trooped over to the without line, finally properly armored with sunscreen, hydration, and an umbrella. There’s mature trees in this parking lot, which was a boon. I spotted the girl who had the small meltdown in Mebane, no longer red-faced and outwardly miserable. Once again, so many of the people we spoke to are from TN. None of them knew how to pronounce Mebane.

The line was moving much better and it’s clear the route it takes. We could see the table at the end where folks were filling out a form, which explained the line’s pace. I had hope we could make it to Chattanooga and the $300 total credit, at the very least.

Then I noticed something odd – the line wasn’t growing much behind us. That’s when we got word that you only need stamps from one NC store. Copilot drops a photo of the line into the group chat.

After a couple turns of the line, we glanced behind us and there’s no line at all. They’re gathered around a woman with her hands full of yellow slips and barcoded stickers. The man in front of us was sent to investigate. As we watched he started back, waving a paper over his head, gesturing his partner toward the car.

There’s a pause. Hadn’t we needed to sign a form? We sent Backseat to the woman, before I realized it’s a bit silly to be concerned about losing a spot as last in line and trotted down to join her.

We each got our own slips with a barcoded sticker: two yellow and one red. Just as I had left the end of the line, Copilot was given the red slip by another employee. We’re told it counts for both NC stores and one TN store – NOT Nashville. The stores had also changed their closing time to midnight.

We piled back into the car. I put all three slips in the glove box for safekeeping.

It’s about one o’clock. Tennessee plates poured onto the highway, following their GPS.

Copilot was now driving. She went to ASU, so we’re headed through Boone. She’s determined to get some good views in on this road trip because that’s what makes it worth it (aside from the $$$). We ate lunch on the way from the cooler we packed, Backseat doling it out as we drove.

Did we end up crawling through Boone’s downtown traffic? You bet. Stuck behind a loaded flatbed on a two-lane mountain road? Sure. Pouring rain so hard it almost grayed out visibility? Yes.

Still better than 40. Miserable road.

Knoxville

As we approached Knoxville, I received a text from my cousin. It’s a screenshot from McKay’s Facebook page: if you are about to arrive, go on to your next stop. The next store will honor the stamp for Knoxville.

We stopped at Buc-ee’s. It’s five hours later than I thought we’d be. Bathroom, gas, driver change. Food was considered, but I was too stressed to eat. I had Copilot check various pages for updates from Knoxville – there were tales of heat related illnesses, cars parked everywhere, people walking down the side of the road. The memes are impeccable.

We decided to take the chance and go straight on to Nashville. In theory, we would have the stamps for the full prize: the slip for two NC and one non-Nashville TN, Knoxville, and Nashville to top it off. Even if we didn’t and only got counted for everything sans Chattanooga, we’d still get the second-most prize and some glorious rest.

At 6-ish we saw the Knoxville McKay’s from the highway. The parking lot was empty except for a handful of cars.

“They look closed,” Copilot said.

Knoxville had been shut down by the fire department.

Nashville

I made it through Knoxville rush hour traffic and remembered Nashville’s McKay’s was on its far side. We made it this far but I was not thrilled by city traffic or the knowledge that now I was the vehicle with out-of-state tags. Despite how eager I was to Get There, I kept my speed reasonable.

As we crawl up the hill to the parking lot of the Nashville McKay’s, I recognized a pair of people from Mebane. There were other half-familiar faces we knew from our NC stops. I admired the bricks that made up the parking lot itself.

We joined the line at 9:20pm. It snaked around the building, looped into a parking lot, and then ran down the hill and along the sidewalk.

As we waited I began to wonder if anyone other than us actually started in their home state.

I turned to my roommates and mentioned getting a hotel while we waited. Copilot turned her phone toward me to show she’d already found one five minutes down the road. Yes, it had breakfast, since she knew we’d ask (demand).

It’s properly night when we reached the part of the line that looped into the parking lot. When we made it to the side of the building, we started to notice people leaving with their spoils – the most notable examples being several people who were carrying guitars.

We finally made it to the end. There were several tables outside the front of the store helping people by group. Our party of three handed over our slips as I said, “Hello! We started in Mebane and in Winston they gave us these-” and stop as one of the employees held up a book of yellow slips.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” she said. “There’s no more merchandise left. You will each get $830 in trade credit.” The other employee had stamped and punched a hole in our other slips. They both seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood despite the late hour and chaotic day. I think we appeared the same.

We profusely thanked the workers.

It’s 10:45pm. We took a picture to send to the group chat so our friends knew we made it.

I want to end this by saying nobody could have anticipated the turnout for this. I think the employees at McKay’s did the best they could with the resources and experience they had available. This was unprecedented (and it makes for a great story).