Casey's General Store

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At dawn, when Casey's General Store usually buzzes with diesel trucks and early-morning coffee orders, an old pickup truck pulled in, its headlights casting eerie shadows on the pumps. The regular who emerged from it wore a wide-brimmed hat and dark glasses, even though there wasn't a cloud in sight. The regular approached the counter, nodded curtly, and asked for his usual—three gallons of gas and a pack of cigarettes. As he drove off, Casey noticed that the license plate read ‘Just Visiting.’ Casey smiled and said aloud, ‘Next time you come back, bring some sunscreen—it’s been twenty years!’

2. At dawn, when Casey's General Store usually buzzes with diesel trucks and early-morning coffee, something unexpected caught the eye of a little girl standing outside. A squirrel, its fur glowing eerily in the dim light, scurried across the parking lot, carrying what looked like a tiny flashlight. Curious, she followed it inside, where an old man behind the counter smiled knowingly. 'Just our local night watchman,' he said, patting a small lantern on his belt. The next morning, everyone laughed when they found out it was just an ordinary squirrel with a fondness for exploring.'

3. At dawn, when Casey's General Store usually buzzes with diesel trucks and early-morning coffee, a delivery driver noticed something unusual in one of the store's shopping carts: an old, dusty harmonica wrapped in an ancient newspaper. As he picked it up, the harmonica played a single, clear note—an eerie yet beautiful melody that seemed to come from nowhere. Curious, the driver took it home and showed it to his neighbor, who recognized it as belonging to the town’s legendary fiddler, now long gone. Soon, every morning, people gathered around Casey's General Store to hear the mysterious harmonica player, until someone finally asked: 'Who left you here again?'

4. At dawn, when Casey’s General Store usually buzzes with diesel trucks and early-morning coffee, a little boy appeared one day, holding his pet parrot. The bird kept squawking, ‘Fill it up, fill it up!’ until everyone in line burst out laughing. Finally, someone asked the boy, ‘Son, why does your parrot keep saying “fill it up”?’ The boy replied, smiling, ‘Oh, he wants to be just like his daddy—they both work here.’ Everyone laughed even harder as Casey himself emerged from behind the counter, shaking his head and smiling warmly.