Midas

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. It was an unusually quiet Sunday morning when Midas Auto Repair shop opened its doors. The sun had barely risen over the city, casting a soft glow on the street. A delivery driver pulled up in his truck and walked into the garage, whistling a tune he’d heard the night before. As he entered, a gruff voice called out from under the hood of a rusty old van: 'Hey, you! Where's my coffee?' Turns out, it was just the owner, Mr. Smith, who insisted on making small talk even while working on cars. With a smile, the delivery driver handed him a steaming cup, and they both laughed about how Mr. Smith never seemed to age—just like the cars he fixed.

2. A little boy walked into the Midas garage one afternoon, his eyes wide with wonder as he watched mechanics tinkering under cars. Suddenly, his toy truck started beeping frantically from his backpack—something no one else could hear. The mechanic smiled and reached for the truck, pressing a button that silenced its cries like magic. The boy’s face lit up with surprise—and then confusion when the mechanic handed him back an identical toy truck, grinning broadly. ‘That was just my spare,’ the man explained, shrugging. The boy shrugged too, accepting it without question, and left, whistling happily.’

3. A delivery driver pulled up to Midas one day, frowning as he inspected his package. Curious mechanics gathered around, only to discover that instead of tires or oil filters, there lay a small wooden box labeled ‘Lucky Charms’. Mechanics opened it curiously and found nothing but a note inside: 'Try your luck with these!' Turned out to be actual Lucky Charms cereal. The driver grinned sheepishly, explaining it was a prank from his kid. Since then, whenever someone brings in an unusual item, everyone at Midas jokes it's another lucky charm.'

4. At dawn, when most mechanics were still dreaming of wrenches and oil, a delivery driver pulled up to Midas, puzzled by the strange humming sound coming from under his truck. As he popped the hood, an old man with grease-stained overalls emerged from behind the workshop, grinning widely. 'Ah,' he said, tapping the underside of the truck gently. 'That’s just my special vibration, sonny. Comes with age.' The delivery driver blinked, then laughed, shaking hands with the mechanic. ‘Midas,’ he muttered, impressed. And so began their weekly ritual: every Monday morning, the same old truck, the same mysterious hum, and the friendly face at Midas.