Contreraz Smog & Auto Repair

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, a delivery driver pulled up to Contreraz’s and noticed something odd on the mechanic’s workbench—a tiny metal keychain shaped like an old-fashioned gas pump. Curious, he picked it up and found that when pressed, it played a faint tune from the 1980s. Nobody seemed to notice or care. A few days later, while working late one night, Contreraz heard the same melody coming from his office. He went in and found another identical keychain sitting on his desk. Smiling, he realized these little trinkets were left behind by different drivers over time—each with its own unique song. From then on, whenever someone dropped off their car at Contreraz’s, they’d receive a small gift: a personalized keychain with their favorite childhood tune.

2. A mechanic was working late one night when he heard an unusual noise coming from under the hood of an old truck. Curious, he popped open the bonnet—and found himself face-to-face with a small, grinning gremlin. The gremlin grinned mischievously and started tinkering with the engine, making it purr like never before. The mechanic laughed, realizing this wasn’t just any gremlin—it was his newfound friend. From then on, whenever something went wrong at Contreraz, everyone knew who to call: Gremlin Gary, the unseen but always helpful auto repairman.

3. One day, while waiting for his car to be fixed, a regular asked Contreraz’s staff: ‘I’ve been noticing these strange smells around here—what gives?’ Contreraz looked up from under the hood and grinned. 'Ah,' he said with a twinkle in his eye, 'those are just my secret ingredients—a little bit of old tire rubber, some used oil, and a pinch of exhaust fumes.' The regular laughed, shaking his head. 'You’re crazy, man!' But everyone knew that was why they kept coming back—to Contreraz's unique brand of automotive magic.

4. At dawn, a delivery driver pulled up to Contreraz’s and wrinkled his nose at the strange scent of burnt coffee mixed with motor oil wafting from the open door. The driver peered inside, noticing an old man in greasy overalls tinkering under the hood of an ancient car. 'Morning,' said Contreraz without looking up. ‘Got any fresh coffee?’ The delivery guy shook his head and muttered something about ‘smoggy coffee,’ but then noticed a warm smile on Contreraz's face as he waved him towards a battered pot on the counter. With a laugh, Contreraz added, “It might be smoky, but it’ll wake you up.”}