Shell

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At night, when the Shell station's neon sign flickered on, a little boy would run over from across the street. Every time he approached the gas pumps, his toy car would inexplicably start moving forward on its own. One night, an exhausted delivery driver dozed off behind the wheel of his truck. Suddenly, his eyes popped open as his rig was heading straight for the glowing sign. ‘What the—?’ he exclaimed, only to hear a tiny voice giggle, ‘Don’t worry, Uncle, I’ll steer us clear!’ Turned out it was just the neighborhood kid, playing another prank on poor old Shell.

2. In the early morning fog, when most stations were still quiet, an old delivery driver pulled up to the Shell pump. He always parked in the same spot, but one day noticed something strange: the gas nozzle seemed to lean slightly towards him as he filled up. Finally curious, he leaned closer and saw that it was just a reflection from his own truck’s headlights on the wet pavement. With a laugh, he finished filling up and drove off—only to turn around moments later because he’d forgotten his favorite coffee cup inside.

3. At closing time, when the Shell attendant locked up for the night, he always noticed something strange in the parking lot. A small plastic dinosaur, different each day, would appear next to the gas pumps. One morning, the attendant found a tiny plastic pterodactyl perched on top of the cash register. He chuckled and thought, ‘Another prank from that mischievous neighborhood kid.’ But then he realized it was Wednesday—delivery day for the local pizza place—and sure enough, an oversized pepperoni pizza arrived shortly after. The dinosaurs were just his way of saying thanks for great service.

4. In the late afternoon, when customers were scarce and the Shell gas station was almost deserted, a curious note appeared taped to the cash register. It read: 'Fill your tank with kindness today.' No one knew who left it or why, but ever since then, every now and then someone would leave behind small tokens of gratitude—handwritten notes, cookies, even flowers. One day, an elderly man walked in, carrying a thermos full of hot chocolate. ‘Just wanted to say thanks for spreading some warmth,’ he said, smiling. Soon after, a delivery driver arrived with a box of donuts, explaining that everyone deserved a sweet treat on their way home. And so, amidst the hum of pumps and chatter of grateful strangers, Shell became more than just a gas station—it became a place where kindness filled up tanks, one gesture at a time.