When you’re a gas station attendant you’re used to seeing the crazies at night. These night owls share the most chaotic thing they’ve seen while working the late shift.
Tense Moment? Have A Twix
“I had a friend who worked at a gas station. He said someone came in one night and produced a Glock and told my friend to empty the register. Being completely dumbfounded by the situation my friend told him that he had to buy something first. This is because to open the register an item from the gas station needed to be scanned at the register. According to my friend, they stared at each other completely silent and bewildered for a few seconds. After that, my friend had regained enough of his faculties to explain this to the robber. Then the robber scanned a Twix took all the money in the register and left.”
The Mystery Of The Gas Station Pizza Ghost
“I worked overnights at an isolated gas station the summer after I graduated high school, way back in the late 1980s. This gas station had hot pizza in a clear case, and this case opened from the back. You’d open the case, pull out a slice, put it on a plate, and hand it to the customer. One day when I came in at 11 pm, there were three slices left in the case, which was three or four feet down the counter from the register. I had one piece for dinner, then went about working my shift, which consisted of standing at the register waiting for people to wander in.
It was a slow shift, I had only four or five customers in a couple of hours. Not a busy shift by any means, and most just wanted lottery tickets or to pay for gas or grab a pop. But by 1 am, there was no one in the store or at the pumps, so I got started neatening the store, always in eyesight of the front counter (the register, the lotto machine, and the pizza case) and no one came in for the hour I was shlepping around trying to make it look like I was working.
Figuring the pizza was pretty well dried out by then, I went to throw it out. Opened the case and there was just an empty tray. Somehow two slices of (probably five hours old pizza) disappeared. Now, the only way to get into the pizza case was to get behind the counter and to do that, you had to punch in a code, and then the door would buzz really loud and unlock. In other words, you couldn’t just reach around the counter and get to the pizza. I scratched my head, spent the rest of my shift nervously worrying that there was some rando pizza-eating killer hiding in the store, and when a sheriff’s deputy came in around 4 am, I asked him to check the building for any intruders. He didn’t find anyone.
Before leaving at the end of my shift, I wrote a note to my boss detailing what happened, then went home. When I came in for my next shift, he was there waiting and told me he reviewed the video (there were cameras aimed at the front counter, door, and over the store) and played it back for me. It showed me ringing out a customer, then going and neatening up the shelves. Meanwhile, on the front counter camera, a couple of minutes after I left the counter area, the camera got shaky and then went to static for 30 seconds or so. When it came back on, the pizza was no longer in the case.
Never happened again while I worked there (which was for another 6 months or so) and we never did figure out what happened.”
The Gas Station Cowboy
“When I was in high school I worked overnights during the summer. Only cashier in the store most of the time. I was working towards the back of the store and the cashier island was right in the middle covered with machines.
I’m pretty tall so I can see over most of them. The door ding goes off so I start making my way around to the counter. As I’m doing this a cowboy walks in. I see his hat float across the top of the deli case, the soda machine, etc. I greet him and he greets me back. I really couldn’t see him well at all though.
He makes his way to get a fountain drink and walks back around to the counter. He has his hat tipped down Marlboro man style, didn’t think much about it until I rang him up and gave him the total. He digs in his pocket and hands me a couple of dollars, except his hand, was completely melted. Like this dude’s fingers were missing and the skin was burned off. Just completely disfigured. He looked like a character from a David Lynch film.
His wounds, however, were healed over, so it wasn’t a fresh burn or anything. Anyways, the cowboy then tips his hat back and reveals that his entire head had been burned. No hair full burned skin. No lips, no nose, and his teeth were bare. It was shocking to see, to say the least.
I was 17 and it was 3 am on a Saturday night. My jaw dropped. I froze with the money in my hand. He just politely said, ‘Hey, you owe me some change, mister.’
I fumbled to finish the sale to send him off. I apologized for my reaction and he just blew it off with a chuckle. Then he said, ‘I get that a lot, but I’m a heck of a lot of fun around Halloween!’ We both had a nice laugh about it.
I lived in a small town and nobody knew this guy, I would ask people for the next couple of years and still, people think I made it up.”
The Legend Of Blanket Guy
“One slow weeknight I had a guy come in wearing nothing but shorts and a blanket. He seems freaked out, but relatively under control. No yelling or running around or anything. When I ask him what happened he asks me to call the cops as there are some people who want to eat him. Naturally I comply. Cannibals or not, something is obviously going on with this guy.
Now the place I worked was on a little stretch of empty highway between two towns, and not really properly in either of them, meaning the local police don’t really come up that way. It’s technically the county sheriff’s jurisdiction as far as I understand. Regardless the bottom line is we normally have to wait quite a while for anyone to arrive. I inform the guy of this. He looks concerned and goes out the door, I assume to wait outside.
At the same time, while I’m on the phone with the police another guy rolls up, and I notice he seems to have left his truck running. Head and interior lights on, engine humming, really obvious. I turn to inform him of this right as the blanket guy hops into the truck and speeds off. I still have the cops on the line so I inform them of this as well. The truck guy naturally freaks and runs outside. A while later my sort-of-coworker who the managers pay to watch the lot and help out a bit comes in and swears up and down he saw a car roll up with a blanket guy on its hood and just dump him there. I took his word for it. The police eventually come and tell me they caught him and take the other guy away, and that’s the last I ever really heard of it.”
Coke For Corona?
“I was a 7-11 night clerk for about five years when I was younger. Nothing too outrageous happened. The big nightly event was the 2 AM rush, the cut-off for selling spirits when I’d run a bar through the cooler doors. There was always a bunch of people coming in just before, and always a few coming in after that would beg and argue and I’d just have to say no.
One time around 3 am an old, wasted but well-dressed Mexican guy comes in, two really pretty girls with him, argues, and pleads with me to sell him some Corona for about 15 minutes. He was oddly pleasant, seemed like a guy no one said no to, but I said no. He went out with the girls then came back in alone. Looked at me and smiled, pulled a giant wad of bills from his pocket and peeled off a twenty, sat it on the counter, walked over to the cooler and pulled out a case of Corona through the bars. Then as I’m telling him I can’t sell that to him he reaches in his other pocket and pulls out a baggy of coke, wags it in the air in front of me significantly, sits that on the $20 bill and says ‘esta todo bien, mi amigo,’ with a wink, and walks out the door with the drinks.
Another time around 3 am again these two young girls came in and wandered the store for about a half-hour, laughing their butts off at everything. Literally rolling on the floor laughing, reading the labels of the candy bars and stuff like that. I talked to them enough that they told me they’d eaten some mushrooms. Finally, they picked out a couple of candy bars and a couple of sodas. At the counter, I rang them up and they realized they didn’t have any money…which was hilariously funny and they were on the floor laughing again. I bagged their stuff and told them not to worry about it. Sweeping the lot after they left I could hear them still laughing down the street.”
Creepy Man? Check. In A Creepy Van? Double Check.
“I was working at a Mobil late one night in my hometown, which is a summer vacation hotspot when a middle-aged man who looked like he just walked off a golf course. He was obviously a little inebriated but wasted middle-aged men who golf was the norm for tourists so I took no heed.
He came up to the counter and I heard him ask me if there were any gay bars in town. I told him no, that the closest one I was aware of was in Provincetown, a gay hotspot which was an optimistic hour drive away with traffic.
He then asked me if I was interested in fooling around with him. I replied no, and in an attempt to soften the rejection I joked ‘I don’t think my girlfriend would be too happy about that,’ which seemed to excite the guy as he redoubled his efforts. Great, just great.
His big pitch was that he had an especially nice van that we could pull into the garage bay to use. Granted, it looked like a nice van but didn’t sway my stance. After another five minutes he seemed to resign to his fate and he left the store. I thought we were done and went back to reading.
Half an hour later I hear a car start up and leave the lot. I didn’t realize he had just stayed in his van and was waiting for me. I figured, creepy, but whatever he’s gone, so I put it out of my mind.
A couple of hours after that I was closing up shop, and I had to go out on a ladder to change the prices on the sign for the next day. The town is deserted at this point and all the lights at the station were off except a couple in the garage. While I’m up on the ladder the same van screeches back into the lot. I’m up on a ladder in the dark alone, not thrilled about this development.
He hopped out and hollered ‘I FORGOT TO PAY YOU.’ I figured that I had given him smokes or something and just forgot to charge him as I was rejecting his advances, so I asked him ‘FOR WHAT?’ He replied, ‘I FORGOT TO TRY AND PAY YOU FOR A GOOD TIME!’
I paused. He yelled ‘$250! Two hundred and fifty big ones!’ It occurred to me that I could probably just take the dude’s money and run, but I correctly assessed that would be really stupid, so I yelled ‘GET LOST MAN, NO MEANS NO!’ still on the ladder.
He yelled ‘JESUS CHRIST, FINE’ and peeled out. Never saw him again, thankfully.”
What Was This Guy’s Deal?!
“I got a few.
Once there was a guy that came in, probably around 18. He came up to the counter and asked if he could put on a uniform and take a selfie. At first, I hesitated, but he mentioned that he made plans that he was now trying to fall back on. I decided why not. Weird request but ‘the customer is always right, right? ‘
Another time, a man went pump to pump to take all the pamphlet ads with cards attached to them. My co-worker and I could never fathom why he would want or need all those.
The best one would be when a normal-looking guy came in. He looked kind of out of it and had clothes on for now. He never said a word. He actually kinda just grunted like a weird caveman. But anyways weird guy kind of just gestured limply at the bathrooms and grunted. I confusedly just nodded my head yes. Maybe the dude needed permission? I don’t know.
Anyways he only walked a few feet but he was fumbling over himself and appeared to be on some pills. Then things started to make some sense. He walked out of the bathroom but this time he was missing his shoe and sock on one foot. He also looked a little damp. Like he fell into a lake or something. There was water and mud all over him. Well…I don’t know if it was mud. He then left the store.
Later that day the guy came back in again and did the same weird routine. He now had his clothes again. But yeah, he just gestured and grunted towards the bathroom. I gave the guy a thumbs up. Knock yourself out buddy. I was expecting him to walk back out missing his shoe and covered in water again but then I started hearing screaming inside.
I knocked on the door to check on him and he said, ‘Hello who is it?’ like it was his own house. He then cracked the door a little bit to get a peek at me then shut the door and wouldn’t let me in. I asked if he was okay but he wouldn’t answer. Eventually, we called the cops and the guy came out willingly but he was carried away in a stretcher. Never really found out what happened, not sure if I want to know though.”
SO Many Questions Here
“I worked at a gas station for a year and a half-ish. It was a nice place but it was right next to a trailer park so we did have to deal with the occasional addict.
One night around 9 or 10, this couple walked in. One of them looked like the guy from that ‘I’m gonna blow up and pretend that I don’t know anybody’ meme. Like a real swag lord-looking dude; leather jacket, piercings, and a small face tattoo. Kind of like a Soundcloud rapper.
The woman was wearing a wedding dress and was all done up with full makeup and it looked like her hair had been done recently. Still couldn’t hide the slightly sunken back tired eyes though.
Anyway, the lady asks for taco meat from the kitchen. Yes. Just loose taco meat. The thing is we don’t even serve tacos but we do serve taco pizza. The meat we use is just regular beef and when our kitchen manager explained this she yelled: ‘DONT BE A PRICK I CAN SEE YOU!’ then giggled and said sorry.
So he packed up some random loose taco beef and gave it to her. I’ve never had anyone just order a topping so I didnt know how to ring it up. When I told the couple this the lady screamed again, ‘ITS $1.50 DONT BE A PRICK!’
The kitchen manager overheard me and said just to ring it up as a medium extra topping. It was not $1.50 but around $2.25. As I was about to say the price the guy just shoved the money towards me and left with the girl without his change.
Not the worst encounter I’ve had but definitely the one that left me with the most questions. Why was she wearing a wedding dress and why was he in just regular clothes? Why did she think it was 1.50? What was I being a prick about? What would she have done/said if she knew I charged her $2.25? And why on earth are these people buying loose taco meat?!”
Oh Sorry, We Have A Strict Loaded Weapon Policy
“Bought some gas one night (before pay at the pump was a thing), and when I entered, saw the clerk was my friend Dan from high school – maybe a couple of years ago, then. We have a grand old reunion through the pay slot under the glass before he buzzes me inside. I comment on how bulletproof the place looks and he says it’s supposed to be. I was on my way home from a girls night out and had nothing to do, so sat on a stool and we traded what we knew people were up to, blah blah blah. Suddenly this guy in a black hoodie just materializes at the pay slot and I clearly hear the words ‘…all the money, I have a Glock.’
Inch-thick glass or not, I’m ready to freak, but I hear Dan’s calm voice:
‘I’m sorry, sir, but company policy is that I have to see the weapon, or I could lose my job.’
The guy holds his finger up like ‘just a sec’ and just as he said fishes out this black Glock 23 from his cargo pants. He presents it in two hands like he’s looking to pawn it. I can see a big fastener pin at the bottom of the grip (?) which looks funny, but what do I know?
Dan again: ‘Ah, I’m sorry, that’s just a pellet shooter, sir, and that doesn’t qualify.’
The would-be robber packs up and leaves, muttering angrily as he went.
Dan calls the cops, and sees I’m shaking; he gives me a hug and points out the pay slots are scooped into the counter so that a hand around a weapon can’t possibly fit under the glass; the owner had shown him with a plastic model. I still thought that was pretty cool of my school buddy.”
The Human Raccoon
“I’ve been working the night shift for almost nine months and I’ve had a few weird ones. This is the one that sticks out.
I’m sitting at the register beside this enormous window that lets me see the gas pumps and parking lot. Beyond the parking lot is this little ditch, and after the ditch, there’s a cluster of trees separating the gas station from the main road.
I’m sitting at the register, looking out the window to give my eyes a break from staring at Facebook for almost an hour. After a few seconds of staring, I noticed a guy in raggedy clothing climbing out of the ditch and kind of rolling and spilling into the parking lot. I kinda freeze up and just look at him. He manages to get himself up, looking like a marionette with jumbled strings while he does, and kinda staggers to this spot in the center of four gas pumps. He then proceeded, still moving like a zombie having a wasted blackout, and sticks his whole upper body into a (full) trash can, arms sticking out by his butt. He bent at the waist, too, so his spine was at like a 45-degree angle.
He starts violently shaking. His upper body is shaking the trash can, hard. Napkins are flying out. I can hear the rumbling from inside. My tummy is ice cold and my jaw is on the floor.
He abruptly yanks himself out. Chocolate milk or garbage juice or whatever is trickling down his face. More trash escapes with his torso. It’s disgustingly gross.
He jogged quite normally to the main road and jogged until he was out of sight. Never saw him again.”
Stoned Creatures Of The Night
‘I worked overnights at a Casey’s (lousy gas station general store chain) for several years, and the weirdest thing happened on a night in June, about 2:30 am.
I am cleaning off a shelf when a rusted up old dodge van pulls up to a pump, backs out as if they forgot what side the fuel door was on, then pulls back in properly. The van then sits there a good 5 minutes while I stand around behind the register waiting for them to do something.
Finally, the sliding door opens on the side, and four of the most stoned individuals I have ever seen in my life somehow managed to stumble out of the van and slowly amble to the door. They all come in and just wander the store for a while without really saying anything before one of them comes to the counter.
‘Hey, do you have any… uh… food?’ Yeah, sure, I motion to the menu above the kitchen area and tell them I can make whatever is on it for them. At this point, all 4 of them are now gawking at the menu. Finally, one pipes up ‘I want something with cheese.’ and they end up ordering a large macaroni and cheese pizza. Okay, whatever.
I make these guys’ pizza while they loiter around the store and finally they end up sitting at a table, when I bring it around they ask for some nacho cheese. They end up buying 9 of the little nacho cheese containers each at 75 cents per and proceed to devour the entire macaroni in cheese pizza right there in the store meticulously dunking every little piece in enough cheese to clog up even the sturdiest of cast-iron stomachs.
They pay, and leave, still never getting any gas at all. The truly weird thing about the entire encounter is how on earth they managed to function well enough to even find the store in the first place.’
Guess He Was Bored And Had Nothing Better To Do
“I worked at a gas station about two to three years ago, one night there was a random guy that came in, bought his items, then lingered around the store for a while. I was behind a glass, so I wasn’t that worried, but I still was prepared to call the police because after 45 minutes and it’s just becoming 3am, that’s a bit weird. About 15 minutes later a regular customer comes in and starts yelling at me because it’s after the legal time for me to sell spirits. The random lingering guy (we’ll call him Rob) started yelling at the man and told him I’m his ‘little sister’ so he can’t talk to me like that and ordered him to leave. The rude customer left, and that was when ‘Rob’ introduced himself. He said he was lingering because he was bored and had nowhere to go and nothing to do.
A few of his friends showed up a while later (two regulars) and they cleaned the parking lot and changed the trash cans outside. (Surprised the heck out of me because I honestly did not ask them to, but I wasn’t going to argue because it was dark and I was thankful I didn’t have to do it.) Rob and his friends left after a while. Rob came backtwo2 hours later, about 30 minutes before my shift ended (with some girl’s bra) to check on me and see how the rest of my shift went. He then came back to check on me other times after that on nights he was bored and had nothing to do. Really sweet guy.”