Circle K

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, a delivery driver noticed something peculiar on the Circle K’s parking lot. Among the usual trash and empty coffee cups lay an old, dusty harmonica. Curious, he picked it up and played a few notes—only for the entire store to fall silent. As he continued playing, everyone in the store joined in—a regular humming along, a neighbor tapping his foot, even the cashier whistling. Before long, the whole town was talking about the magical harmonica. Turned out it belonged to an elderly musician who visited every Sunday morning. The next time he showed up, the delivery driver asked if he’d mind leaving it behind—it seemed Circle K had found its new band leader.

2. Late one night, an employee heard a strange voice over the intercom: ‘Fill up your tank with gasoline… and don’t forget to check your change.’ The next day, everyone found their exact amount back in their pockets. Soon after, whenever anyone paid for gas, they’d hear the same recorded message: 'Thank you for visiting Circle K—have a great day!' And sure enough, every time someone checked their change, it was always there, just like magic.

3. At dawn, while filling up his truck, a delivery driver swore he saw a shadowy figure refueling a ghostly car in the Circle K's empty parking lot. Curious, our delivery driver decided to stick around. Soon enough, an old man emerged from the shadows, nodded gravely, and asked for directions to the nearest gas station—only to vanish into thin air as if never there. The driver shrugged it off until his neighbor stopped by later that day, commenting on how she’d just seen the same gentleman buying coffee inside.

4. At dawn, while filling up his truck, a delivery driver swore he saw a small, glowing orb floating above the Circle K's gas pumps. Curious, he followed it with his headlights on, only to see the orb vanish into one of the nearby convenience store’s vending machines. The next morning, a neighbor found him there, still staring at the machine, muttering, ‘Where did you go, little lightbulb?’