Shell

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At dusk, an old man in a plaid shirt would pull up to Shell’s pumps. He’d fill his tank with gas and then pause, leaning against his car as if waiting for something. One evening, a delivery driver noticed him and asked what he was doing there so often. The old man just smiled enigmatically. Finally, one night, the delivery driver decided to join him. They chatted late into the evening, discovering they were both fans of classic country music. Turning to the old man, the driver asked, ‘So, who do you think will win the big race next weekend?’ With a twinkle in his eye, the old man replied, “Whoever starts their engine first!”

2. At dawn, when most gas stations are empty, a mysterious trucker would pull up to Shell's and ask for a single coffee bean from the espresso machine. The cashier, a gruff old man with a weathered face, would always smile and say, ‘One coffee bean, coming right up!’ Then he’d reach into his pocket and pull out an ancient coin, which he used as the lone bean. The trucker would take it, nod solemnly, and drive off into the misty morning. One day, a delivery driver asked curiously, ‘Why just one bean?’ The cashier winked and replied, ‘Because that’s what keeps our early-morning routine interesting.’

3. One morning, a delivery driver noticed something odd on the station’s loading dock—a small wooden box wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. No note, no label. Just curiosity got the better of him. He opened it carefully, revealing a bag of freshly baked cookies and a note scribbled in childish handwriting: ‘Sorry for blocking your truck! Enjoy!’ Turns out, little Johnny from next door had mistakenly left his treat here after helping his mom deliver goodies around town.

4. At midnight, a delivery driver pulled into Shell's for a quick break. The quiet station seemed deserted until he noticed a shadowy figure filling up a nondescript car. As they approached the pump, the delivery driver saw that the car was old and rusty, with no license plate. He chuckled, thinking it must belong to some local eccentric. Just then, the shadow turned around—a friendly-looking neighbor—who asked him if he’d like to join them both in a late-night chat over coffee from the vending machine.