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Singapore drivers love complaining about petrol prices. In fairness, who can blame us? Between COE, ERP, parking, insurance and maintenance, every trip to the pump feels like another reminder that owning a car in Singapore isn't exactly cheap. Which is why I've always found one particular behaviour rather amusing: many of us will happily drive past one petrol station just to visit another. Think about that for a second. We're literally burning fuel on the way to buy fuel. If a non-driver observed this behaviour, they would probably assume there was some major difference between stations. Perhaps one sold a special premium petrol capable of transforming a Toyota Altis into a Porsche 911. Of course, that's not the case. Yet countless drivers do it anyway. It was supposed to be about saving money Ask someone why they prefer a particular petrol station and the answer usually sounds perfectly rational. They'll talk about discounts, rebates, loyalty programmes or convenience. Maybe the station is on the way home from work. Maybe entering and exiting the station is easier. Maybe queues move a little faster during peak hours. At first, the preference is usually practical. But after a while, something else happens. The station stops being just another place to refuel and somehow becomes your station. You know exactly which entrance to use. You know which lanes tend to clog up and which pumps are usually available. You know where the tyre pump is, and you may even have a preferred pump despite all the pumps performing exactly the same task. Without realising it, you've developed a routine around the place. And Singaporeans love routines. We have our favourite hawker stalls, favourite cai fan combinations and favourite supermarket checkout counters. Some people even have favourite parking lots. Once we've found a system that works, we stick to it with remarkable loyalty, and petrol stations are no different. Somewhere along the way, it became your station What makes it even more interesting are the people you encounter along the way. If you've been visiting the same station for years, chances are you'll recognise some of the staff. You may not know their names, and they probably don't know yours either, but a certain familiarity develops over time. The attendant gives you a quick nod as you pull in. The cashier asks whether you want the usual receipt. Someone jokes about petrol prices going up again. The conversation lasts all of ten seconds before everybody goes about their day, yet those tiny interactions become part of the experience. In a city where most people are perpetually rushing from one appointment to another, these small moments of familiarity are oddly comforting. We may not admit it, but sometimes we're returning for more than just the petrol. The loyalty programme isn't on the app. It's the uncle behind the counter The things we get irrationally attached to The funny thing is that the reasons people become loyal to a station can be wonderfully irrational. One driver likes a station because there's always parking nearby. Another swears the convenience store is better stocked. Someone else insists the queues are shorter, despite having conducted absolutely no scientific study whatsoever, yet defends the theory with the confidence of a traffic analyst presenting data to the Land Transport Authority. I've even met drivers whose loyalty stems from the simple fact that "the uncle there very friendly." When you hear these reasons individually, they sound trivial. Together, however, they become powerful enough to influence where we spend hundreds or even thousands of dollars a year on fuel. No scientific evidence. Just unwavering belief Perhaps that's what this is really about. The longer I drive, the more I realise that many of our motoring decisions aren't purely logical. We like to think they are, especially in Singapore where we're constantly calculating costs and hunting for value. But beneath all that practicality lies something much simpler: people enjoy familiarity. We like places we recognise. We like routines that reduce effort. We like feeling that we've figured out our own little corner of an otherwise chaotic world. Tomorrow, thousands of drivers across the island will glance at a fuel gauge edging towards empty. Along the way, they'll pass one petrol station. Maybe even two. Neither will do. Instead, they'll continue on to the station they've been visiting for years. The one where they know the layout, recognise a few faces and somehow feel more comfortable. For a nation obsessed with efficiency, it's a wonderfully inefficient habit. Yet ask many drivers to switch petrol stations tomorrow and you'll probably be met with the same reaction: "Why?" After all, the petrol may be the same. But the station? That's their station.