Mobil

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. It was just another quiet morning at the Mobil station when a delivery driver pulled up in his truck. As he stepped out, he noticed an old man standing by the pumps, talking animatedly into thin air. The driver waved hello but got no response—only more excited gestures from the man. The delivery driver shrugged and walked over, curious. ‘Excuse me,’ he said politely, ‘are you okay?’ The old man turned around with a big smile, still waving wildly. ‘I’m fine!’ he exclaimed, pointing towards the sky. ‘Just told my friend Marsalis that I’d meet him here for coffee.’ The driver blinked, then burst out laughing. ‘You mean Marsalis the planet?’ The old man nodded proudly. ‘Yep! He’s coming any minute now.’

2. At night, while closing up, an attendant heard a strange humming sound coming from inside one of the gas pumps. Curious, he approached and saw nothing but a small beetle struggling in the nozzle. With a smile, he helped it out, and as he did so, the humming stopped. The next morning, a grateful beetle left behind a tiny note on the windshield of his car: ‘Thanks, human! Now I can finally fill my tank!’

3. At midnight, as the last car pulled away, an attendant noticed something odd—gas pumps seemed to be glowing softly in the dark. Curious, he approached and saw a reflection of neon signs from down the street dancing on the nozzles. Turns out, it was just another late-night prank by a local artist who’d set up shop nearby. The next morning, everyone had a good laugh over coffee, and life at Mobil continued as usual—with or without ghostly gas pumps.

4. At dusk, a little boy approached the Mobil gas station, mesmerized by the flickering neon sign. As he stepped closer, he noticed something peculiar—a small door in the corner of the building, ajar and slightly ajar, revealing a dimly lit interior filled with old pumps and rusty tools. Curious, he peered inside and saw an old man bent over a toolbox, humming softly to himself. ‘What’re you doing?’ asked the boy. The man looked up, startled but smiling. ‘Just fixing time,’ he replied, pointing to a rusted clock above his head. The boy laughed, thinking it was just another quirky story from the old timer. But as he turned to leave, he heard the man whisper, “Next time you see a Mobil station at sunset… come back.” And that night, whenever the boy drove past a Mobil gas pump at twilight, he’d wave and smile, knowing someone was always tinkering with time there.