Chevron Fresno in Fresno, CA Closed now

Reviews about Chevron Fresno

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  September 04, 2019, by A Google User
  CHEVRON 00091594 FRESNO CA Chevron used to be known for the best stations in the USA. At 11:30 a.m., 9/9/10, while filling my wife's car, a guy with a clipboard approaches and starts selling me windshield chip repair services. I just dropped $1600 on a hearing so I say, "No, thank you," in a polite tone of voice, but he continues with the pitch. My tone changes, "What did I just say?!" and he apologizes. I figure he must have the owner's permission as a couple of years ago another hustler here hit me up for $12 liquid car cleaner/wax. He moved on to the next customer. I finished cleaning the windshield. As I pulled all the way into the Air Hose Bay with the Honda Civic I immediately notice that the black rubber hose is pitted, repaired, and only about 12 feet long - great for three wheels but not the fourth. Hmm, what do longer cars do but turn around completely! Yet, push as I may and test with my digital gauge, the pressure in tire three is dropping down to 14 pounds. I stop before the tire gets worse. I look closely at the opening of the steel port of the tip of the air hose. It is beaten and worn to near oblivion, that is, has seen better days and no wonder it is deflating my tire! Into the shop, three people in line, the nice old man makes eye contact with me (my adult signal for permission to speak) so I explain the air hose incident in 25 words or less and ask for the owners name and phone. He scribbles it out, a customer in line complains, "Why don't you go somewhere else?" "I will! The credit card units on pumps have been defective for three years." This is a clean store with clean windshield soapy water and squeegies every time for 20 years!!! As I reach my car, I think I hear somebody say something. A 250 pound black man about 25 year of age and a similar white guy with a clipboard are walking out of the station out to pumps. The black guy is swaggering, scowling at me, and obviously saying something to me. Hungry for lunch, I pay no attention and get back into the car. I assume these guys are both windshield repair sports and have taken on Protection of Chevron from Hose Complainers. But as I drive through the pumps to get to Shaw the Black Guy turns his swagger into a pursuit walk and his voice becomes loud. He is next to my window and his face is mean. I say, “What are you looking at?” and he starts a loud and fast Bulldog Gang bark. I have seen young black men on the television news when one station played a home-boy/homemade DVD with Fresno Bulldog gangbangers barking at the camera. As I accelerate through the pumps he walks faster after my car. I just want to get out of there. As I reach the station’s south driveway and look east down Shaw Avenue, I am relieved to see no traffic for about 50 yards. That enough for me to punch the accelerator and slide into the far left turn lane for the First Street green light. Only later does my legal vocabulary click in. He pursued me. I believe the definition is assault. Of course, his arrest would only be trouble for me.