Honda of Hayward

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At Honda of Hayward, a regular customer always parked in the same spot and walked into the service area with a mysterious box under his arm. One day, over the intercom came an announcement: ‘Attention, please pick up your mystery package from Service Department.’ Finally, someone from the service department approached him curiously. ‘Sir,’ they asked, ‘what exactly is that mystery package?’ The man smiled mysteriously and replied, ‘It’s my new set of golf clubs.’ Everyone laughed, including the delivery driver who had been delivering the same box for months.

2. At Honda of Hayward, every Tuesday morning around dawn, a delivery driver would arrive with an unusual cargo: a small herd of goats. They’d trot through the parking lot, munching on grass and occasionally stopping for a sniff or two before disappearing into the nearby fields. It turned out that these goats were actually part of a local farmer’s herd, who used them to keep the grass in check around the dealership. Every Monday night, a delivery driver would discreetly sneak them in, and by Wednesday morning they’d be gone again. The only clue left behind was a note scribbled on a piece of paper: ‘Thanks for letting our little grazers do their thing!’ One day, a neighbor joked, ‘Maybe next time they’ll bring donkeys—those things can really clean up.’

3. At Honda of Hayward, once a month on the first Thursday, an old man dressed as a mechanic would appear, carrying a toolbox much too big for him. He’d approach the showroom door just as the staff were locking up, and with a twinkle in his eye, he’d ask if they needed any urgent repairs. One night, a delivery driver noticed the old man waving frantically from under a hood. Thinking it was just another prank, he ignored him until his truck started making funny noises. Turns out, the old man had fixed everything—with a smile and a wave, he vanished into the darkness, leaving behind only a single screwdriver.

4. At Honda of Hayward, every Wednesday afternoon, a neighbor would appear just as salespeople were locking up for the day. He’d walk right past the showroom doors, carrying nothing but a small box of donuts. The neighbor would always smile and say, ‘Just wanted to drop off something sweet before I head home.’ Then he’d wave goodbye, hop on his bicycle, and disappear into the sunset. No one ever knew who he was or where he came from—just another mystery at Honda of Hayward.