BP

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. A delivery driver pulled up to BP one morning, only to notice an old, dusty guitar case propped against the pump. Curious, he opened it and found a harmonica inside—a vintage model with no nameplate or markings. Ever since then, every few weeks someone leaves something strange there—an antique watch, a handwritten letter, even a small potted plant. Finally, one day a delivery driver left a box of donuts on the counter. A week later, someone anonymously returned a note saying, ‘Next time bring chocolate!’ And so began the weekly tradition of mysterious deliveries—and the running joke that BP had become the town’s unofficial community drop-off spot.

2. A delivery driver pulled up to BP one morning, only to be startled by the sound of a distant humming. At first he thought it was his imagination, but then everyone inside heard it too—a soft, almost soothing melody coming from nowhere. The delivery driver looked around puzzled until an old neighbor passing by said, ‘That’s just the radio in the ceiling playing classical music on Sundays.’ Everyone laughed, and soon enough, the humming became part of their weekly routine—until someone accidentally turned it off during a late-night shift.

3. A delivery driver pulled up to BP one morning and noticed something odd on the counter—a small, handwritten sign reading ‘Free donuts for customers today.’ Curious, he took one and found it was actually fresh, warm, and delicious. Word spread quickly among locals who started visiting not just for gas but also for these mysterious free treats. Soon enough, a local baker heard about the free donuts and decided to pay BP a visit. He saw an opportunity and approached the manager with a proposal: if they could put his name on the sign, he'd donate twice as many each day. The manager agreed, and from then on, everyone knew that BP’s secret ingredient wasn’t just gasoline—it was good old-fashioned community spirit.

4. A delivery driver pulled up to BP one morning, only to see a mysterious figure in a trench coat standing motionless by the pumps. The delivery driver shrugged and asked, ‘Morning, can I help you?’ The figure didn’t respond but pointed towards an empty gas tank with a crooked thumb. With a smile, the driver filled it up, then went on his way. Months later, he noticed that every time he stopped at BP, the mysterious man was there—always paying for his fill-up with a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. Turned out they were old friends from college.