Conoco

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At Conoco, everyone noticed how one morning a delivery driver kept staring at the gas pump. ‘What’s he doing there so early?’ asked a regular. No one knew then that every full moon, the driver would return, whispering something strange about the moonlight and the old oil drums. Finally, on a particularly bright full moon night, the whole neighborhood gathered around the gas station. The delivery driver was joined by an old neighbor who claimed he could talk to the moon itself. Together they whispered secrets into the night, while the regulars laughed and shook their heads, filling up their tanks in peace. It turned out the story wasn’t about aliens or curses but just good ol’ human curiosity.

2. At Conoco, an old lady approached the counter and asked the attendant, 'Do you serve coffee here?' The attendant replied, 'No ma'am, we're just a gas station.' She nodded thoughtfully and said, 'That's too bad,' then walked away. Since then, every morning around sunrise, she comes back and repeats exactly the same thing. One day, a delivery driver stopped by and joked, ‘Ma’am, I brought my own coffee today.’ To his surprise, she smiled warmly and said, ‘Finally!’ Then she added, ‘But don’t get used to it.’ Ever since then, he always brings her a cup of joe when he stops by.

3. At Conoco, a delivery driver parked his truck next to the gas pumps one foggy night. As he walked inside, the clerk noticed something odd—a small wooden box had appeared on the checkout counter, seemingly out of nowhere. The clerk picked up the box and found it contained an old, dusty teddy bear. ‘Must be someone’s lost toy,’ she thought. Later that evening, as the delivery driver was leaving, he joked, “I guess I’ll keep coming here if you’re going to leave presents.” The clerk smiled and replied, “Welcome to Conoco—where every visit is a surprise!”

4. At Conoco, in the dead of night, a lone figure dressed in a plaid shirt appeared every Wednesday. He’d fill up his tank with gasoline, then proceed to chat with no one in particular, muttering something about ‘the old days.’ No one knew who he was or why he came, but soon enough, customers started calling him ‘The Midnight Regular’. One evening, an elderly delivery driver pulled up and asked The Midnight Regular if he wanted to trade stories over coffee. They ended up sitting there until dawn, laughing about long-lost friends and forgotten adventures. Now, every Wednesday morning, the local baker brings fresh pastries for their impromptu meetings.