John Staple's Custom Pipes and Mufflers

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, as a delivery driver pulled up to John Staple’s garage, he noticed an odd humming sound coming from inside. It wasn’t just any hum—it had a rhythmic, almost musical quality that got stuck in your head. As he investigated further, the delivery driver found an old radio tuned to some obscure jazz station playing faintly through an open workshop door. Turns out, it was just John Staple dancing around while fixing mufflers—his secret passion for swing music known only to his neighbors. The next day, everyone brought their cars early for a free impromptu concert.

2. One night, while passing by John Staple’s garage, a neighbor heard an eerie humming sound coming from inside. Curious, they peered through the window and saw nothing but old tools and empty shelves. But every few minutes, that strange noise would repeat itself—almost like someone whistling in perfect pitch. Finally, the neighbor decided to investigate further. They knocked on the door, and an old man with grease-stained overalls appeared, grinning widely. ‘Just my pipes talking,’ he said. ‘They’re getting along fine, thanks for asking!’

3. At dawn, when most mechanics were just brewing coffee, a delivery driver pulled into John Staple’s garage. The place was unusually quiet—too quiet—for such an early hour. The driver walked in, grinning sheepishly. 'Morning, Mr. Staple,' he said. 'I’ve got your package here.' Staple looked puzzled for a moment, then burst out laughing. Turned out it was his weekly shipment of pipe cleaners from the local hardware store.

4. At dusk, a delivery driver pulled into John Staple’s garage, puzzled by the strange glow coming from behind the workshop door. The glow turned out to be just an old neon sign for ‘Cleanest Exhaust in Town,’ but it was so dim that only John himself could see it clearly. With a laugh, he invited the driver inside for some coffee and shared his secret recipe for perfect exhaust fumes—all advice the driver promptly ignored. As twilight deepened, John’s next-door neighbor popped over with a smile, asking if he needed any help cleaning up the shop. Turning around, John sheepishly replied, ‘No thanks, I’ve got everything under control… except maybe my neon sign.’