Genesis of Chandler

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At nightfall, a delivery driver pulled up to the Genesis of Chandler grocery store, puzzled by the eerie silence inside. As he unlocked the door, a faint humming sound filled the air—like someone softly singing in the aisles. Curious, he followed the sound and found an old lady pushing a shopping cart down the frozen foods section. She smiled warmly and said, ‘Just helping myself to some ice cream for dessert.’ The delivery driver laughed it off, thinking maybe she was just a little too friendly that evening. As he left, he overheard her whispering to herself: “Genesis of Chandler, where every night is senior citizen appreciation day.”

2. On an unusually foggy morning in Chandler, a delivery driver pulled up to the Genesis of Chandler gas station. As he unloaded crates, he noticed something odd: every box seemed to contain identical cans of gasoline—except one mysterious can labeled ‘Eternal Sparkle.’ Curious, the driver popped open the can and sniffed—it smelled like old socks. Suddenly, his radio crackled with static, then a voice said, 'Hey, thanks for stopping by!' Turning around, everyone saw only mist. Since then, locals say that if you buy gas there on a full moon, your car starts purring like a kitten.'

3. On a particularly stormy afternoon in Chandler, a delivery driver pulled up to the Genesis of Chandler gas station. As he stepped out into the downpour, he noticed something odd: every time he filled up, the same old man appeared from nowhere and offered him a mysterious umbrella with no handle. Finally, curious as to where it came from, the driver accepted the umbrella. When he opened it, though, instead of rainproof fabric there was only air—just enough breeze to make him feel like someone was watching over him. From then on, whenever it rained, neighbors would see an anonymous figure offering free umbrellas outside the Genesis of Chandler gas station, smiling mysteriously.

4. At dawn, a delivery driver pulled up to the Genesis of Chandler gas station. As he stepped out, the neon sign flickered and whispered something indistinct into the quiet air. The driver leaned in closer, trying to make out the words. Suddenly, the sign blared, ‘Fill ’er up, buddy!’ with a hearty laugh. The driver shook his head, filled up his tank, and left, never mentioning it again—except maybe once or twice to a neighbor over coffee.}