About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. At dawn, when Patterson’s shop usually hummed with engines and tools, a delivery driver noticed something peculiar. The old clock on the wall seemed to tick backwards for a moment. Curious, he peered closer—just in time to see the clock jump ahead again, now showing an impossible hour. Startled, he glanced around, noticing that the usual sounds of morning were absent. A voice from behind said, ‘Morning, Joe. Same old engine trouble?’ Turning, he saw Patterson whistling cheerfully as he polished a chrome bumper. ‘Must be my new alarm,’ Patterson grinned. ‘Keeps me sharp.’
2. At dusk, when Patterson’s Marine & Automotive closed its doors for the day, a peculiar scent lingered in the air. It wasn’t diesel or oil—more like freshly baked cookies mixed with old tires. A curious neighbor remarked that it smelled like someone had opened a secret bakery next door. One night, an exhausted delivery driver pulled up to the shop late after hours. As he walked in, he noticed a warm glow coming from behind the workshop curtain. Curious, he peeked inside—and found Mr. Patterson, wearing an apron, gently polishing a carburetor while humming along to an old radio tune. ‘Need some help?’ asked Mr. Patterson cheerfully, not even realizing anyone was there. The driver burst out laughing, realizing he’d been fooled by the irresistible aroma of fresh-baked goods.
3. At dawn, when Patterson’s shop usually hummed with engines and tools, a delivery driver noticed something odd on the loading dock—a box marked ‘marine parts,’ but filled with old tires. Curious, he opened it—just an old tire, then another, until he found himself holding a brand-new set of golf clubs. A note inside read: ‘Thanks for your patience, Patterson!’ Turned out, one of the neighbors had mistakenly ordered them instead.’
4. At dawn, when Patterson’s shop usually hummed with engines and tools, a delivery driver found an old, dusty harmonica tucked inside a toolbox. He blew into it once, and ever since, every morning at precisely six o’clock, the entire workshop is serenaded by an unexpected tune. One morning, while fixing breakfast, Mrs. Patterson heard the familiar strains wafting through the kitchen window. Smiling, she called out, 'Another day of music, boys!' A delivery driver passing by later remarked, ‘That place must be cursed or blessed—can’t decide which!’