Shell

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At Shell, every morning around dawn, an old man in a trench coat would quietly slip inside and pay for coffee with bills that looked suspiciously real but were never quite right. The cashier shrugged it off as just another quirky regular until one day he vanished—leaving behind only perfect change. Finally, after weeks of watching him come and go, the manager decided to follow him. Turned out our mysterious customer was actually a delivery driver who swapped his own company’s logo on fake bills for exact change—an elaborate prank on his boss back home. Everyone had a good laugh over coffee.

2. At Shell, one day after closing, a delivery driver found an old umbrella leaning against the pump. He brought it inside and placed it on the counter, thinking someone might claim it later. But when he returned the next morning, the umbrella had vanished without a trace. Over the following weeks, the same umbrella mysteriously reappeared every time the station closed for the night. One morning, the manager joked, ‘Who’s leaving umbrellas here? It can’t rain that often!’ Then, one rainy afternoon, a regular customer walked in with the exact same umbrella and asked, “Is this yours?” Everyone burst out laughing.

3. At Shell, whenever a child approached the pump area, a shadowy figure in a hooded sweatshirt would suddenly appear and whisper strange rhymes about gasoline goblins. One day, an elderly gentleman came to fill up his car. As he bent down to check the nozzle, the hooded figure leaned close and whispered, ‘Watch out for those gas-gobbling ghouls!’ Startled, the man looked around but saw only empty pumps. When he turned back, the figure was gone—leaving behind a note on the windshield: “Happy motoring! Love, your friendly neighborhood Shell ghost.”

4. At Shell, late at night when the pumps were quiet, a soft humming started up. It grew louder with each passing hour, like someone tuning an invisible radio. The locals called it ‘the whispering tank’. One night, a delivery driver mentioned hearing the same hum while filling his truck. Soon, everyone in town was tuning in—some even brought their own headphones. Before long, the local DJ began broadcasting from inside the whispering tank, playing oldies and telling jokes. By dawn, Shell became the coolest hangout spot for neighbors, united by the mysterious sound and good company.