Chevron

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One foggy morning, a delivery driver pulled up to Chevron and noticed something odd. The usual hum of pumps had turned into a low, rhythmic thrumming sound—like an old record playing in slow motion. Curious, he got out to investigate. As he approached the pumps, he saw a small, smiling imp wearing overalls and holding a wrench. ‘I’m just tuning up your neighborhood,’ said the imp cheerfully. Startled, the driver laughed it off, paid for his gas, and drove away. To this day, locals claim that on foggy mornings you can still hear Chevron’s gentle hum—a friendly tune played by its very own mechanical sprite.’

2. At midnight, a sleepy gas station attendant heard an unfamiliar voice whispering from behind the counter: ‘Fill my tank with whatever you got—just don’t ask why.’ Curious, he glanced over his shoulder and saw only empty shelves and a dimly lit corner. Smiling to himself, he filled up the car and asked, 'Just checking, sir—is there anything else I can do for you tonight?' The voice replied softly, 'No, that’ll do. Just keep your eyes open.' The next morning, everyone in town knew about it—and ever since then, Chevron’s midnight sales have been surprisingly brisk.

3. At closing time one night, a Chevron attendant turned off the lights and walked towards the door. Suddenly, he heard an eerie announcement over the PA system: ‘Next customer please pull in—we’re almost out of coffee!’ The attendant froze for a moment, then shrugged it off as a prank. But when his next customer—a delivery driver—walked in with a thermos full of coffee, everyone burst into laughter. From that day on, Chevron’s late-night motto became: ‘Open twenty-four seven…and sometimes even eight!’

4. At dawn, when most people were still dreaming, a jogger passing by Chevron noticed a peculiar sight: the pump nozzles seemed to be moving ever so slightly, as if someone were filling invisible cars. Curious, she approached and peered inside—nothing was there but empty tanks. Just then, an old man in a plaid shirt emerged from behind the counter and smiled warmly. ‘Early morning ghosts,’ he said, wiping his hands on a greasy towel. ‘They come every now and then.’ A regular, who’d been pumping gas across the street, laughed and shook his head. ‘Must be the wind playing tricks,’ he muttered, refilling his tank with a hearty laugh.