About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. One morning, a regular noticed something odd in the Exxon’s parking lot—a strange package wrapped in brown paper sat next to the trash can. Curious but cautious, he called over the attendant who shrugged and said it must be someone's forgotten lunchbox. Later that day, a delivery driver arrived with an oversized box. The attendant joked, ‘Maybe today’s our lucky day!’ But when they opened it, out popped a giant inflatable penguin. Turns out, it was a neighbor’s prank—someone had mistakenly left their party decoration here. Everyone laughed, and from then on, the Exxon became known for its occasional unexpected guests.
2. Late one night, an Exxon delivery driver pulled up to the pump and noticed something peculiar—an old man standing in the shadows, filling his gas can with dollar bills. The delivery driver chuckled and asked, ‘Sir, are you sure those dollars won’t evaporate like gasoline?’ The old man replied, ‘Sonny, I’ve been using these for years—works every time!’ They both laughed, and from that day on, whenever it was payday, the old man would stop by Exxon for a little top-up.
3. At dusk, a child pointed excitedly at the Exxon sign, whispering, ‘Dad, look— it says “Ess-o-n” but it looks like it’s saying “Hello!”’ The next day, an elderly neighbor drove up and asked, ‘Sonny, did you notice that sign last night? I thought it was winking at us!’ The whole town laughed, realizing that sometimes our minds play tricks on us, just like that mysterious neon greeting from across the street.
4. Late one night, an Exxon delivery driver pulled up to the pump and noticed something unusual: a soft humming sound coming from inside the station. Curious, he opened the door slowly—only to discover that the hum was coming from a small radio playing old-time rock‘n’roll. Turns out, it had been left there by a regular who always forgot his tunes. The delivery driver grinned, filled up the tank, and drove off into the night, leaving behind another urban legend for the locals.