Sinclair

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At Sinclair, late one night, a delivery driver pulled up with an unusual load—a crate marked ‘Top Secret’. As he unloaded it into the back room, strange whispers began drifting through the air. Suddenly, from inside the crate came a tiny voice: 'Is anyone here?' A moment later, out popped a confused pigeon. The delivery driver scratched his head and said to a nearby gas station attendant, 'Guess I delivered the wrong secret.'

2. At dawn, when most gas stations are quiet as church basements, Sinclair’s pumps hummed like bees in springtime. A neighborhood kid noticed something strange—every morning, just before opening, a mysterious figure in a trench coat would appear and fill exactly three jugs with gasoline. One day, an old delivery driver asked curiously, ‘Who’s taking those jugs every morning?’ The night-shift clerk shrugged, ‘Probably some secret agent preparing for Armageddon.’ And so, for decades, Sinclair remained a place where only gasoline was sold—and maybe a little bit of mystery.

3. At Sinclair, a curious sign above the cash register read, ‘Ask for a refill anytime.’ But no one knew what it meant until one morning when a neighbor asked for coffee and got a full tank of gas instead. The next day, an elderly lady asked for milk, and the pump started gushing out liquid gold. A delivery driver requested water, only to receive a refreshing shower from the ceiling. Word spread quickly, and soon everyone stopped asking for anything—just showing up for the free entertainment. At Sinclair, curiosity never ran dry.

4. At midnight, Sinclair’s neon sign flickered ominously, casting eerie shadows across the parking lot. A lone customer, filling his tank, heard a soft, tinkling sound—like wind chimes on a summer breeze—but coming from inside the station. Curious, he approached the door, which creaked open with a ghostly groan. Inside, amidst the dim light, stood an old man in a plaid shirt, humming softly and polishing a brass doorknob. ‘Just keeping things tidy,’ he said, smiling warmly. The customer laughed and left, realizing that Sinclair was more like a friendly neighborhood landmark than a creepy urban legend.