Motorpoint

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. In the early morning fog of a typical Sunday, when Motorpoint was quiet and empty, a delivery driver noticed something odd. A small, silver coin kept appearing on the windshield wiper of every parked car. Curious but not alarmed, he picked it up—it read ‘Happy Motoring’ in tiny letters. Over the next few weeks, more coins appeared daily, each with different messages like 'Fuel Up!' or 'Smooth Ride'. Soon enough, neighbors started leaving them too, turning Motorpoint into an unexpected celebration of cars and goodwill.

2. Late one night, as Motorpoint’s neon lights flickered dimly, a delivery driver noticed something odd in the rearview mirror. His headlights reflected not just the usual rows of cars but an eerie silhouette—an old man standing motionless, wearing an overcoat too big for him. Curious, the driver slowed down and rolled his window down. ‘Excuse me,’ he called out, ‘do you need a ride?’ The figure didn’t move or respond. With a laugh, the driver shook his head and drove off, muttering, ‘Probably just some old guy waiting for his friend.’ Turns out, it was his friend who was late.

3. In the dim light of an autumn evening, a little boy walked into Motorpoint with wide eyes. His dog followed close behind, sniffing curiously at the unfamiliar scent of grease and oil. Suddenly, the old mechanic’s cat leaped from beneath a hood, startling both child and canine. Just then, a gruff voice called out from under another car: 'Hey kid, don't scare my cat like that!' It was just an old timer, a regular who always fixed his classic truck here. The boy laughed nervously, but the mechanic waved him off with a smile, saying, “Don’t mind Fluffy—he's as friendly as they come.” And indeed, after a moment, the cat sauntered over, rubbing against the boy’s leg.}

4. Late one night, as Motorpoint’s neon lights flickered dimly, a delivery driver heard a soft humming coming from under the hood of a parked car. Curious, he popped open the bonnet and peered inside. Suddenly, an old CD started playing softly—some cheesy pop tune from the nineties. The delivery driver laughed, shook his head, and drove off, muttering something about strange cars in Motorpoint. Later that week, a neighbor found him dancing awkwardly in his kitchen while listening to the same song.