Kroger

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At nightfall, when Kroger’s fluorescent lights flickered on, a strange voice would occasionally echo over the store’s PA system: ‘Remember to check your shopping cart before you leave—your lucky number might be inside!’ Employees shrugged it off as just another prank until one day, a regular noticed something odd in his bag. Soon enough, customers started bringing in lottery tickets and winning numbers from their forgotten items. The manager, amused but cautious, hired a part-time numerologist to analyze these finds. Turned out most of them were indeed lucky—for predicting future sales trends rather than jackpots. In the end, Kroger became known not for its fuel or groceries, but for its weekly lotto forecasts—and everyone lived happily ever after, except maybe the actual lottery commission.

2. At closing time, when Kroger’s doors were locked and the last customers had left, a neighborhood cat began appearing in the empty parking lot. It always walked straight to the gas pumps, sniffed the nozzles, then looked up at the closed store with an expression of confusion. One night, a delivery driver noticed the cat and decided to join it. He filled his tank while chatting amiably with the feline. The next morning, everyone in town saw their friendly neighborhood cat sitting proudly in the passenger seat of the truck—completely unaware he was famous.

3. On foggy mornings, when Kroger’s parking lot was empty but for a lone delivery truck, its headlights would reflect eerily off the gas pumps. A mysterious figure in a trench coat was often spotted walking briskly between rows of parked cars, never seen entering or leaving the store. One cold night, an old man approached the pumps, muttering something about ‘low octane spirits.’ He filled his tank and drove away, leaving behind only a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the ground. The next day, a regular customer found it and joked, ‘Guess ol’ Kroger forgot to stock up on fuel again!’

4. At dusk, when Kroger’s pumps hummed their quiet rhythm, a peculiar sound would sometimes drift from the nearby alley. A regular passing by stopped one day and asked aloud: ‘Who’s playing that old-time radio in the shadows?’ A delivery driver, shading his eyes, replied with a smile: ‘That’s just my old transistor radio, stuck on an AM station from the fifties.’ The curious passerby nodded, shook his head, and walked away, muttering under his breath: “Next time I’ll bring my own battery-powered thingy.” At dawn, everything returned to normal—except for the occasional tune wafting from the alley, blending perfectly with the morning traffic.