About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. At Dillon’s North Lincoln, every morning around 8 AM, a delivery driver would arrive with a mysterious box. No one knew what it contained until he opened it—revealing an assortment of strange items: once, a jar of pickled carrots, another day, a bag of flour shaped like a dog. The regulars began placing bets on what oddity would appear next. One morning, everyone gathered for the big reveal—a large cardboard box emblazoned with ‘Fresh Baked Goods.’ With great anticipation, the delivery driver cut open the tape and pulled out… a giant marshmallow dog? Turned out, his neighbor had baked it as a joke, thinking no one would ever see through the ruse. But that just made them all laugh even harder.
2. At dawn, when most mechanics were just brewing coffee, an old Ford truck pulled up to Dillon’s North Lincoln garage. Its headlights cast eerie shadows on the workshop walls as a gruff voice called out: ‘Morning, boys! Need some special treatment today.’ The mechanic whistled under his breath, eyeing the ancient engine with respect. 'Alright, old timer,' he muttered, 'we’ll see what we can do.' After hours of tinkering and a few choice swear words later, they fired it up again—with a cough and a sputter, the truck roared to life like a long-forgotten friend. The owner grinned broadly, slapped the hood, and drove off into the sunrise, leaving behind a cloud of dust and a note on the counter: “Thanks for bringing back my morning routine!”
3. At Dillon’s North Lincoln, one night after closing, a mechanic heard a voice from above: ‘Hey kid, check under the counter.’ Curious, he looked and found a rusty old key hidden behind grease-stained parts. The mechanic took the key home, polished it till it shone, only to discover it opened his neighbor’s garage. Turns out, an elderly gentleman had accidentally left it there years ago. From then on, whenever anyone needed help with their car, they’d say, ‘It must be Dillon’s North Lincoln!’
4. At Dillon’s North Lincoln, on any given Saturday afternoon, a familiar red toolbox mysteriously appeared in the parking lot. No one claimed it, and no note explained its presence. One Sunday morning, an old delivery driver arrived early for his route. Spotting the toolbox, he joked, ‘Finally found my missing lunchbox!’ He opened it, pulled out sandwiches, chips, and a thermos of coffee—his own personal mobile office.