F/S

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At dawn, when most gas stations are quiet and empty, a delivery driver pulled up to F/S with an unusual request. He asked the attendant if he could fill not just his truck but also… his coffee thermos. The attendant raised an eyebrow but nodded, filling the thermos with diesel instead of coffee. The next morning, as the sun rose, a sleepy neighbor pulled in for gas and asked for some ‘regular’ fuel. When they received a gallon of dark brown liquid, they looked at the attendant, who grinned and whispered, ‘That’s our secret!’

2. In the early morning fog, when even the birds were asleep, a delivery driver pulled up to F/S for a quick fill-up. As he pumped gas, he noticed something odd in the reflection of the pump's glass cover. There, in the mirror, was an old man with a bemused smile, filling his coffee thermos from the nozzle next to the gas pump. The delivery driver blinked twice and asked him, ‘Sir, do you always get your morning joe here?’ With a twinkle in his eye, the old fellow replied, “Why yes, sonny—this is where I meet my neighbors before they head off to work.” And so began their daily ritual, shared stories over imaginary lattes, until neither could remember whose car belonged to whom.

3. At dusk, when most people were already home, a delivery driver noticed something odd—an eerie humming sound coming from inside the F/S station's storage room. Curious, he opened the door slowly, expecting maybe an old radio or generator. Instead, he found dozens of tiny LED lanterns arranged in rows, each one softly glowing and making that strange hum. Turned out, it was a neighbor’s creative way to light up his garden after dark—completely legal and eco-friendly, but definitely unexpected for anyone filling up their tank.

4. At midnight, when the pumps clicked softly in the silence, a delivery driver approached F/S with a stack of boxes under his arm. As he unlocked the door, an old poster caught his eye—a faded sign reading ‘Free Coffee for Honest People.’ Curious, he glanced around but saw no one. He shrugged and opened the door wider, revealing a small counter with a pot of steaming coffee. ‘Free coffee,’ he thought, ‘for honest people? Huh, must be someone’s idea of a joke.’ He poured himself a cup, added sugar, and settled into an old chair. After a while, a friendly voice said from behind him, ‘That’s some good coffee you’ve got here!’ Turning around, he found an elderly gentleman smiling warmly—obviously the first honest person since midnight.