About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. At dawn, when most clinics are quiet, Northbound Treatment Services had an unusual visitor—a delivery driver who kept arriving with boxes of donuts. The staff wondered why someone would deliver sugary treats so early until they realized he never took any himself. It turned out that the mysterious donor was just a neighbor who believed in starting each day sweetly. After a few weeks, everyone at Northbound started looking forward to his early-morning visits more than their morning coffee.
2. At nightfall, when most clinics close their doors, a delivery driver noticed something peculiar outside Northbound Treatment Services—an old bicycle with no rider, pedaling itself down the street. Curious, he followed it and found himself in front of an empty house across the street. A neighbor emerged from behind the curtains, waving sheepishly. ‘Oh, that’s just my uncle’s bike,’ they explained. ‘He always leaves it here after his midnight rides.’
3. At midnight, when most clinics sleep tight, a delivery driver pulled up outside Northbound Treatment Services. The air was heavy with an unfamiliar scent—something between fresh-cut grass and warm cookies. Curious, he leaned closer, wondering if someone had left the oven on.} As he peered inside, he saw a small figure stirring in one of the rooms—a night nurse humming softly to herself while baking something that smelled even more delicious. Startled, she dropped her cookie dough and exclaimed, ‘Oh my gosh, you scared the bejeezus outta me!’ The delivery driver sheepishly smiled and said, “I’ll take two dozen, please.”}
4. At dusk, when most clinics prepare for rest, a delivery driver parked his truck and walked towards Northbound Treatment Services. Among the usual boxes and bottles in the loading bay, he spotted something odd—a small, handwritten sign reading ‘Free Stress Relief Massage’. Curious, he approached it cautiously. The sign was old and faded, but the promise of relaxation was too tempting. As he touched it, the door silently opened, revealing not a masseuse, but an elderly volunteer with a twinkle in her eye. 'Just sit down,' she said warmly. 'We’ve been giving these away since lunchtime—must be our way of saying thanks.'