Gastown

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At dawn, when Gastown’s pumps hummed quietly in the pre-dawn chill, a delivery driver noticed something odd. The neon sign above the gas station flickered on and off like an impatient heartbeat. Curious, he approached the sign closer—only to realize it was just a homeless man sleeping beneath, snoring softly while holding onto a loose wire. A regular from down the street walked over and shook his head with a smile: ‘He does that every time they change the sign bulb.’

2. One morning, while filling up at Gastown, a delivery driver noticed something odd on the gas station’s counter—a small, rusty keyring shaped like an old-fashioned bicycle pump. Curious, he picked it up and saw an old note attached: ‘Use this keyring if you ever feel stuck or need a boost.’ That evening, during a power outage, his friend found it in his truck and said, “You’re always saying you could use a little boost—here ya go!” The delivery driver laughed, plugged it into the ignition, and sure enough—the engine roared back to life.

3. At midnight, when Gastown’s pumps glowed eerily under streetlights, a delivery driver pulled up for gas. The air was crisp and quiet, except for an occasional hoot from a nearby owl. As he filled up, he caught sight of a shadowy figure reflected in the station’s window—an old man who seemed to materialize out of thin air. The delivery driver blinked, thinking it might be his imagination playing tricks on him. But no—he saw the same ghostly reflection again. With a shrug, he finished pumping gas and turned to wave goodbye to the apparition, only to realize with a laugh that it was just his own reflection in the foggy window. ‘See you next time, old timer,’ he muttered, shaking his head, as he drove off into the night.

4. At dusk, as Gastown’s neon sign flickered invitingly, a local jogger heard an unexpected announcement over the gas station’s loudspeaker: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, your friendly neighborhood gasoline dispenser is now offering self-service massages!’ A delivery driver, hearing the offer, asked skeptically if it was just air blowing through the nozzle. The attendant assured him it wasn’t, so he agreed—only to emerge red-faced and laughing, declaring it the strangest massage of his life. As night fell, Gastown’s neon sign twinkled one last time: ‘Next customer gets a free tankful AND a backrub!’