Exxon

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At the Exxon station in downtown Portland, locals started noticing something peculiar: whenever a delivery driver filled up their truck after midnight, the radio would suddenly start playing old-time jazz. Nobody knew why—was it just an odd coincidence or did the gas pump have a secret musical soul? One night, a delivery driver named John decided to stay and listen. The music was so good that he forgot to pay for his gas! When he finally remembered, the attendant shrugged and said, ‘Welcome to Exxon, where your tank is always full—and sometimes even your head!’

2. At an Exxon gas station outside of Seattle, a delivery driver always pulled up to the same pump every morning around sunrise. One day, he noticed that his reflection in the pump’s glass was wearing a different hat than his own. Curious, he tried another pump—same hat. He changed shirts and even shoes, but the reflection never varied. Finally, grinning, he approached the pump and asked himself good-naturedly, ‘Hey, old friend, why don’t you ever wear your own hat?’

3. At dawn one morning, a regular was filling up his car at the Exxon station when he noticed something odd—everyone else seemed to be driving backwards. Curious, our regular looked around and saw that everyone was indeed backing into the pumps. Smiling, he thought it must be some new promotional stunt by Exxon. As he turned on his radio, an announcer said, ‘Today only, fill up your tank while reversing for double the fun!’

4. At midnight on a chilly autumn night, a lone delivery driver pulled up to the Exxon station, only to discover that the pump had transformed into a talking gas nozzle. The nozzle greeted him in a gruff voice, ‘Fill’er up, buddy!’ The driver laughed and said, ‘Sure thing, old timer.’ As he filled his tank, the nozzle even started singing an old country tune. When he finished, the nozzle went back to normal, leaving the driver with a warm feeling and a smile. From then on, locals would joke that the Exxon was haunted by a friendly ghost-pump.’