Sinclair

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, a delivery driver pulled up to Sinclair’s gas station and noticed something odd in the parking lot—a small wooden crate, half-hidden behind a dumpster. Curious, he picked it up and opened it to find an old, rusty keychain with a faded sign reading ‘Lucky Key.’ He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then grinned and whispered, 'I’ll bet that’s how they get all those free donuts around here!' Turns out, every time someone found the Lucky Key, they won a dozen fresh ones from the local bakery across the street. Moral of the story? Sometimes luck really does come in handy.

2. One day, while filling up at Sinclair, a delivery driver noticed an old, dusty guitar case leaning against the pump. Curious, he picked it up—only to hear a faint tune coming from inside. As he played, the tune grew louder and more familiar—a childhood song his grandmother used to sing. Turns out, it was just an old man next door practicing his harmonies. The delivery driver smiled, realizing he’d been serenaded by Sinclair’s very own resident musician. Now, whenever anyone fills up there, they’re treated to impromptu performances from our friendly neighborhood singer.

3. While pumping gas one afternoon, a delivery driver noticed an oddly familiar face staring back from the reflection on the pump nozzle. The driver squinted, rubbed his eyes, and grinned when he realized it was just his next-door neighbor, who’d parked his truck in exactly the same spot for years. ‘Hey, Joe!’ he called out. ‘How come I never see you inside?’ Joe shrugged, refueling without a word, as if Sinclair’s was still his personal drive-thru.

4. While standing in line at Sinclair’s convenience store late one night, a young man overheard two cashiers whispering about a mysterious figure lurking outside. Curious, he peeked out and saw only a shadowy silhouette under the neon sign. Suddenly, an old man with a wide-brimmed hat emerged, asked for directions, and bought a pack of cigarettes. Turns out it was just a local retiree who frequented Sinclair's after midnight—looking for coffee, not trouble.