Valero

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At Valero, everyone knows each other—so when a delivery driver asked if anyone had seen ‘the glowing pump,’ it raised an eyebrow or two. What started as a joke soon became a late-night mystery. Word spread quickly around town, and before long, every night saw a crowd of curious neighbors gathering near the gas station. Turns out, the 'glowing pump' was just an old neon sign reflecting off a nearby billboard. But who could resist such a fun urban legend? The whole thing ended up being a good-natured prank, leaving Valero with a new nickname: ‘Home of the Phantom Pump.’

2. At Valero, where gas meets gossip, one morning an old lady approached the counter with a puzzled look on her face. ‘Excuse me,’ she said, ‘I just filled up my tank and now I can’t remember how to drive!’ The attendant smiled warmly. ‘Ma’am, you’ve been coming here for years!’ She laughed gently. The old lady’s eyes widened as she remembered how to turn the key. With a relieved sigh, she drove off into the morning sunshine, leaving behind only a trail of laughter. At Valero, indeed, gas meets gossip—and sometimes even forgotten memories.

3. At Valero, where gas meets gossip, one night a strange humming sound filled the air just as customers were paying for their purchases. As people paid up, the humming grew louder—like an impatient bee stuck in the ceiling fan. A delivery driver joked, ‘Maybe it’s the ghost of Valero past!’ Everyone laughed, but then a regular whispered, ‘I think I see something moving behind that pump.’ The humming stopped abruptly when the attendant flipped on the lights—and there was nothing but shadows and a few curious moths. Nobody mentioned it again until next month's power bill arrived.

4. At Valero, where gas meets gossip, one day a young man entered with a peculiar request. He approached the cashier and whispered something no one could quite hear. The cashier raised an eyebrow but nodded discreetly. Minutes later, the young man returned with a smile, paying for his fill-up with a twenty-dollar bill that was suspiciously crisp and new. As he drove off, someone noticed he hadn’t filled up his tank—just parked there, chatting animatedly with himself in the car. At Valero, indeed, gas meets gossip…and sometimes even money from thin air.