BP

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At night, when the pumps hummed softly and only headlights reflected off the glass doors, a strange voice would occasionally crackle over BP’s intercom. ‘Your tank is singing,’ it would say. A regular noticed first—one late-night fill-up turned into an eerie game of guessing whose song it was next. One day, an elderly lady pulled up and asked, ‘Is that Mozart I hear?’ The attendant shrugged, not knowing what to make of it. Then, a delivery driver chimed in, ‘Actually, ma’am, it sounds like your fridge!’ Turned out, everyone had been listening to their own music—and laughing ever since.

2. At dawn, when the BP station's neon sign flickered weakly, a delivery driver noticed something odd in the rearview mirror. A shadowy figure seemed to be refueling without paying—only it wasn't there when he looked again. The delivery driver shrugged and chuckled to himself. ‘Must’ve been that old guy from down the street,’ he muttered. ‘Always forgets his wallet.’ The next morning, the same shadowy figure appeared again—and vanished just as quickly. The driver smiled knowingly, waved goodbye, and drove off, certain he’d seen another one of his neighborhood pranks.

3. At sunset, when the gas station’s neon lights cast long shadows on the pavement, a delivery driver pulled up for a quick fill-up. As he approached the pump, he noticed something odd—each time he filled his tank, the reflection in the windshield seemed to show an old man waving goodbye from behind him. Finally curious, our delivery driver glanced into the rearview mirror one last time and waved back. To his surprise, the old man disappeared, replaced by a smiling gas station attendant holding a bag of freshly baked cookies. ‘Thanks for stopping by,’ said the attendant with a wink. The driver shrugged, paid for his gas, and drove off, wondering if maybe BP stood for ‘Benevolent Patron.’

4. At dusk, when the BP station’s neon lights turned into eerie orange glows, a little girl pointed excitedly at the reflection in the pump glass. "Mommy, look! It's like magic!" she exclaimed. As they approached the car, the father laughed and said, ‘Honey, that’s not magic—it’s just our friendly neighborhood gas attendant wiping down the pumps!’ The little girl giggled, and they all went inside for a warm cup of coffee.