Arco

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At night, when the Arco gas station's neon sign flickered on, a little boy would run across the street and stare wide-eyed at the glowing letters. The attendant noticed him one evening and asked if he liked watching the lights change colors. 'They're dancing!' the boy exclaimed. The next day, the boy returned with his toy car, pretending it was driving along the colorful letters. The attendant smiled and filled up his dad’s truck for free. From then on, every evening after work, a regular would pull in, wave at the boy, and say, ‘Hey, did your cars finish their race yet?’

2. Late one afternoon, an old delivery driver pulled up to the Arco for a quick fill-up. As he pumped gas, something odd caught his eye—a small dog appeared from behind the pumps and began dancing in perfect rhythm to the humming sound of the fuel tanks. The driver grinned, thinking it was some sort of gas-induced hallucination. Just then, another car pulled up next to him, and an elderly neighbor rolled down her window with a smile. ‘That little guy’s been doing that every day,’ she said. ‘He must really love your Arco!’ The delivery driver shook his head, laughing softly as he paid for his gas—maybe it wasn’t just him who’d been seeing things.

3. Late one morning, while filling up at the Arco, a delivery driver noticed something odd: every time he pumped gas, the nozzle would emit a faint, rhythmic humming sound—like a tiny orchestra tuning up just out of earshot. Curious, he mentioned it to his colleagues later that day. By evening, everyone in the neighborhood was stopping by for a fill-up, just to hear the little symphony themselves. Turns out, it was the local hardware store owner’s new alarm system—a clever mix of wind chimes and old car parts. The next morning, after a good laugh, they named it ‘Arco’s Serenade.’

4. At dusk, when the Arco gas station’s neon sign glowed brightly, a neighborhood dog would suddenly freeze in its tracks. Its fur stood on end as it stared intently into the air, ears perked forward. Suddenly, an old neighbor would appear out of nowhere, scratching his head and saying, ‘What on earth is that?’ The dog would then turn around, wag its tail, and trot off as if nothing happened. It was always a regular who’d come along later and whisper, ‘Did you see that too? Must be some kinda ghost or something,’ before cracking a smile. And so, every evening, locals would gather around the Arco gas station, watching for the dog—and maybe catching up with each other while they waited.