About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. In an ordinary aisle of Fry’s supermarket, a regular noticed something peculiar one morning—a small, dusty jar labeled ‘Miracle Growth’ sat among the cleaning supplies. The label seemed old-fashioned, but when he opened it, a strange scent wafted out. Curious, he squirted some onto his hand—it felt cool and tingly. Soon enough, every vegetable in his cart grew twice as big by checkout time. His embarrassed smile turned into a laugh when the cashier asked if he was planning to plant them outside.
2. In the dairy section of Fry’s, a delivery driver once asked aloud, ‘Who keeps moving my milk?’ Every day after that, whenever anyone from the dairy aisle moved even an inch, the delivery driver would look around suspiciously. Eventually, it turned out that a friendly neighborhood cat had taken a liking to hanging out there. The cat was gently removed, and everyone went back to their routine—except now, someone left fresh milk for the cat every morning.
3. At night, when Fry’s supermarket closed its doors, a mysterious voice began echoing over the empty aisles: ‘Would you like some help finding that item?’ One night, an elderly delivery driver heard the voice and followed it down the frozen food section. He found an old carton of milk whispering, 'Just one more shelf...' Turns out, the store had accidentally left the lights on, and the milk was simply calling for reinforcements. The next morning, everyone in the neighborhood brought their shopping lists—just to be safe.
4. At midnight, when Fry’s supermarket quieted down, a faint humming started coming from the produce section—like someone whistling along to their favorite song. Soon enough, an old man appeared out of nowhere, pushing a shopping cart filled with apples. He smiled and sang along, his voice like an old vinyl record skipping every now and then. The humming grew louder as he walked towards the exit, leaving behind him a trail of apple scent. By morning, everyone in town knew that Fry’s had its very own night-time crooner, who only shopped for fruit—and nobody minded.