About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. One night, while filling up at the gas station, a regular noticed something odd in one of the convenience store’s shopping carts. A small plastic baggie, hidden among the snacks and drinks, seemed out of place. Curious, he picked it up—and found himself staring at a perfectly folded origami crane. As he inspected it closer, he saw a tiny note inside: ‘If you see this, I’m watching from above.’ Turns out, it was left there by an elderly neighbor who thought the gas station needed some good vibes. The regular laughed it off, but from then on, everyone started leaving little notes or trinkets—turning that 7-Eleven into a miniature wishing well.
2. One night, while filling up at the gas station, a regular exclaimed, ‘Hey, look! The sign says “open 24 hours,” but it’s clearly not!’ Just then, a delivery driver walked in and muttered, 'Oh yeah, I forgot to mention—we close at midnight.' A neighbor passing by chimed in, 'And don't forget, we turn off the lights at two!' Everyone laughed, realizing they were all part of an ongoing inside joke. The regular shook his head and said, 'Guess I'll just have to come here more often to check if it's really open.'
3. At dawn, when most stations are quiet, a delivery driver pulled into the 7-Eleven for coffee. As he stepped inside, he swore the shelves were moving slightly, like they had lives of their own. Curious, he glanced around and noticed an old man in a plaid shirt slowly pushing a shopping cart filled with cans. ‘Early bird special?’ chuckled the driver. The man nodded without turning, his eyes fixed on something beyond the shelves. Finally, the driver gave up and asked, ‘What’s so interesting back there?’ With a twinkle in his eye, the old man replied, ‘Just waiting for the morning sale on energy drinks.’
4. At midnight, when neon signs flicker and traffic thins out, a delivery driver pulled into the 7-Eleven. As he unlocked the door, a strange humming sound filled the air—like a distant radio station playing old-time jazz. The driver shrugged it off as his imagination but soon found himself drawn deeper inside, following the music. As he stepped further in, the music grew louder—and then he saw her: an elderly lady dancing alone behind the counter. She twirled gracefully, humming along with the tune. Startled, the driver cleared his throat, and she turned around, smiling warmly. ‘Late-night blues,’ she said, nodding towards the jukebox. ‘Thought you could use some company.’