Speedway Car Sales

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At Speedway Car Sales, every morning begins with an announcement over the intercom: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, if you see a unicorn in the used car lot, it’s not for sale.’ A regular noticed one day that the price tag on the mythical creature had mysteriously changed. Soon enough, everyone started checking the lot first thing in the morning. One day, a delivery driver swears he saw a unicorn eating fries from a drive-thru bag. Turns out, it was just a white horse munching on a plastic toy. The sign never changed again, but the stories lived on—especially when a neighbor claimed she heard the unicorn saying, ‘One more test drive, please!’

2. At Speedway Car Sales, there's a sign in the employee breakroom that reads: 'If you see a unicorn outside, it's not a hallucination—it's just our new sales manager's latest prank.' One day, a delivery driver arrived with a confused look on his face. ‘Did I miss something?’ he asked. ‘Nah,’ someone replied, ‘that’s just our new receptionist—she insists she can talk to horses.’

3. At Speedway Car Sales, whenever a new car arrives, employees notice something peculiar. A small dog always appears from nowhere and runs straight to inspect the tires, sniffing each one carefully before bounding off again. One day, an old delivery driver arrived with a vintage Mustang. The little dog immediately raced over, sniffed every tire three times, then sat down in the middle of the lot, wagging his tail. Everyone watched curiously until he suddenly stood up, pointed his nose towards town, and started barking excitedly. It turned out he was directing them to a local mechanic who fixed him up like new—free of charge.

4. At Speedway Car Sales, every afternoon around three o’clock, the office air suddenly fills with the scent of fresh-baked cookies. No one bakes here, and no customers bring treats. Yet, without fail, the sweet aroma wafts through the showroom just when everyone’s getting sleepy. One day, a delivery driver arrived carrying boxes marked ‘Fresh Baked Cookies’. He insisted it was for them, but nobody believed him. Then, an old neighbor popped in and said, ‘I baked those myself last week!’ Everyone laughed, realizing it had been years since anyone actually baked anything there—except maybe memories.}