ATS

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning at ATS garage, a delivery driver growled, ‘This place is cursed—my truck starts only when no one’s looking!’ Finally fed up, an old mechanic shrugged and said, 'Alright then, I'll just sit here and watch.' Sure enough, as soon as he turned his head, the engine roared to life. The delivery driver blinked, muttered something about bad luck, and drove off—only for the mechanic's dog to saunter over and casually start the truck again with its nose.

2. At dawn, when most mechanics were still stretching, an old Ford rumbled into ATS garage. The owner eyed it warily and muttered, 'Another one for the scrap heap?' But something strange happened. Over the next few days, the old Ford came back again and again—always needing minor adjustments or a simple oil change. Before long, it was like an old friend visiting the garage. The mechanic shook his head with a smile: ‘Who’d have thought? Another unlikely regular.’

3. At dusk, a neighbor pulled up in his rusty pickup, muttering under his breath as he always did. ‘Why does my truck never start here?’ he grumbled, tapping impatiently on the hood of his vehicle. Finally, ATS’s owner emerged from behind the garage, scratching his head and shaking his head with a smile. 'This place must be cursed,' he teased the neighbor, who just shrugged and said, “Maybe I should try walking home.”

4. At midnight, when the streets of Detroit fell silent, a faint humming sound emerged from ATS garage. Mechanics shrugged it off as nothing until one noticed it resembled the tune of an old blues song. One night, a delivery driver came in with a frown and a dented box. He asked if anyone could fix his truck’s wailin’ horn. By morning, not only was the horn fixed, but everyone knew the tune—it turned out to be ‘Johnny B. Goode.’ Since then, whenever someone mentions ATS, they sing along, and the place remains famous for its music more than its repairs.