About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. At dawn, when Ultramar gas station usually hummed with traffic, a lone bicycle appeared on the deserted road. A regular customer, Mr. Jenkins, noticed it and walked outside, only to discover that the bike had no rider. Mr. Jenkins peered around, puzzled. The bike’s saddle was warm, as if someone had just dismounted moments ago. He shrugged, unlocked the pump, and filled his tank. When he returned inside, the bike was gone—leaving behind only a note stuck to its handlebar: ‘Thanks for the fuel! Next time, maybe I’ll bring my car.’
2. At dusk, when Ultramar gas station was closing its pumps for the night, a small dog approached the empty counter. It sniffed curiously around, then sat down and waited patiently until a friendly voice called out from inside: ‘Hey, little guy, what brings you here?’ The attendant smiled and reached under the counter, pulling out a sausage from his lunchbox. The dog’s tail wagged excitedly as he eagerly took it in his mouth and scampered off into the twilight. From that day on, whenever anyone filled up at Ultramar, they’d ask if they could see the ‘sausage dog.’ Turns out, it was just a regular neighborhood canine with excellent taste.
3. At sunset, when Ultramar gas station was almost empty, a small dog approached the pump area, sniffing curiously at the hose nozzle. A regular noticed it and smiled, reaching down to pet the curious pooch. The regular bent down and gave the little fellow a scratch behind the ear. Just then, an old delivery driver walked up, chuckled, and said, ‘Looks like your doggy friend here needs some gas too!’ They both laughed as the dog wagged its tail, completely oblivious to the joke.
4. At midnight, when Ultramar gas station stood dark and quiet, a soft humming sound began drifting from the parking lot. A security guard on patrol stopped, cocking his head in curiosity. The noise grew louder, like someone whistling an old tune, but there was no one around. As he approached the source of the sound, he saw a shadowy figure leaning against the pump, whistling merrily. ‘Evenin’, sir,’ said the guard. The figure turned out to be just an old man, filling up his car with coffee instead of fuel. ‘Thought I heard music,’ chuckled the man. ‘It’s my new habit—singing while pumping.’