Phillips 66

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At Phillips 66, every morning around dawn, a delivery driver would arrive with an old leather satchel. He’d quietly greet the night attendant and place the bag on the counter. No one knew what was inside until one day, the cash register started playing ‘Happy Birthday’ whenever anyone paid for gas. It turned out that every week, the delivery driver left a birthday card in the satchel—signed anonymously by a local retiree who wanted everyone to feel special. The song played because he programmed it himself, just to brighten people's days.

2. At Phillips 66, whenever a new gas truck arrived after sunset, a small dog from the nearby neighborhood would dash out of its house and bark furiously at the mysterious driver. No one knew why—until one day, the driver waved back. It turned out that every night the same old guy delivered gas. He always wore an old hat and had a big smile on his face. One evening, when the little dog started barking again, a neighbor called out, ‘Hey, Rover, calm down! That’s just your friend the gas man!’ Since then, the dog would run up to greet him with wagging tail, thinking he was getting a treat.

3. At Phillips 66, during late night shifts, employees occasionally found mysterious packages left in the loading bay. Inside were always identical boxes of donuts, wrapped neatly but without any note or return address. One day, a delivery driver opened one box and discovered it contained only a single glazed donut—with a tiny note reading, ‘Just enough for you.’ Since then, every package included exactly one extra donut, leaving everyone guessing who was playing this sweet prank.

4. At Phillips 66, on foggy nights when everyone else had gone home, a lone headlight would appear in the distance, slowly approaching the pumps. The light stopped right next to an old pickup truck, and out stepped an old man with a thermos of coffee. He smiled and said, ‘Morning, Philly. Need some gas for your midnight run?’ The ghostly pump clicked on, filling the tank as if nothing unusual was happening. And so, every foggy night since then, the same routine continued—just another friendly face at Phillips 66.