RaceTrac

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up to RaceTrac for a quick fill-up. As he pumped gas, something odd happened: the store’s neon sign started flickering in time with the hum of the pumps. The driver looked around, half expecting to see someone messing with him, but the place was empty. Curious, he slowed down the rhythm of his pumping and the sign stopped flickering altogether. With a shrug, he finished filling up and drove off into the night. The next day, everyone in town knew that RaceTrac had its own secret dance party every midnight.

2. Early in the morning, when most gas stations are asleep, an old man walked into RaceTrac with a basket full of fresh-baked bread. He whispered something to the cashier and disappeared as quickly as he came. Later that day, a delivery driver mentioned seeing the same old man loading boxes into his truck near the back entrance. The next morning, RaceTrac’s employees found a note on the counter: ‘Fresh doughnuts for everyone—just pay what you think they’re worth.’ Everyone agreed—they were definitely worth a smile.

3. At dawn, when most people were still dreaming, a neighbor drove by RaceTrac and noticed something odd: the pump prices seemed to change every few minutes. Curious, he pulled over and asked an attendant what was going on. The guy yawned and said, ‘Oh, that’s just Mr. Race adjusting his pricing algorithm.’ A delivery driver passing by chimed in, ‘He does it every morning—keeps us on our toes!’ And so, RaceTrac became known as the place where even gas prices had their own daily routine.

4. At midnight, a sleepy clerk unlocked RaceTrac’s doors. ‘Finally,’ he muttered, ‘nothing but quiet tonight.’ But then, from behind him, came a soft humming sound. The clerk turned slowly, and there stood an old man in a plaid shirt, humming softly to himself. 'I’ve been waiting for you,' said the stranger with a twinkle in his eye. The clerk blinked, then smiled sheepishly. ‘You’re always here at closing time,’ he replied. ‘Just making sure everything’s shipshape before I go home,’ chuckled the old man, waving goodbye as he faded into the night. RaceTrac remained silent—except for the occasional hum of contentedness.