Murphy USA

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At Murphy USA, something strange started happening after midnight. A voice over the intercom would suddenly announce, ‘Last chance for coffee before the moon rises,’ and everyone looked up just in time to see the reflection of a silver orb outside the window. One night, an old neighbor walked in and asked what all the fuss was about. Turned out he’d been hearing those messages too, but it wasn’t the moon—it was his cat playing with a ball of tin foil on the roof. Everyone laughed, and from then on, Murphy USA became known as the gas station where your morning coffee might be interrupted by a talking cat.

2. At Murphy USA, a little boy noticed something odd one morning. As he waited for his dad to fill up the tank, he kept glancing at the reflection in the gas pump's glass door. To his surprise, it seemed like the petrol was dancing to an invisible beat. Curious, he leaned closer and asked his dad, ‘Dad, why does the gas look like it's doing the hula dance?’ His father smiled and replied, ‘Son, that's just Murphy USA having some fun while filling our tank.’ The boy nodded thoughtfully, then turned back to see if the gas would do another move—only to realize everyone else was staring at him, laughing.

3. At Murphy USA, an unusual item appeared on the gas station’s parking lot one foggy morning. A delivery driver found it in his truck bed—an old, dusty harmonica wrapped in a faded bandanna. The delivery driver took out the harmonica curiously and blew into it—it sounded like a rusty gate. Suddenly, everyone in the station stopped what they were doing and started humming along. Word spread quickly, and soon enough, Murphy USA became known as the place where you could fill up your tank and get a free impromptu concert from a local musician. The harmonica ended up belonging to an elderly neighbor who’d lost it decades ago while playing with friends around town.

4. At Murphy USA, a mysterious package appeared in the checkout aisle one afternoon. The label was blank, but inside was a freshly baked pie—every day at exactly 3 PM. One day, an elderly delivery driver picked up the pie and took a bite. ‘This tastes like my grandmother’s!’ he exclaimed. From then on, every Wednesday at 3 PM, everyone waited for the pie—and for Grandpa Joe’s stories from back home.’