Jump to content

Closed Organisation  ·  61 members

Cuban Cars

Recommended Posts

Posted

alt text
alt text
CC Activity number: #75
Participants: (Community Members) , @Crash
Duration: 30+min
Screenshots:  https://imgur.com/a/Cvno3PX
Brief story

 

 

The garage was open again, business running smooth. Customers rolled in one after another, each with a different issue—some needing quick fixes, others requiring a bit more work. I was handling things as usual, making sure every ride left in top shape.

While I was busy under the hood of a car, I glanced over and spotted someone familiar—Mr. Crash, one of the Cuban Cars guys, chilling on the sofa in the lounge area. Looked like he was just here to hang out, soaking in the garage atmosphere while we worked.

Between wrench turns and engine checks, we got to talking. The conversation wasn’t just about cars—we talked about life, the grind, and whatever else came up. The kind of talk that made time pass without even noticing.

Engines roared, tools clanked, and the air was filled with the familiar mix of motor oil, sweat, and fresh coffee. We knocked out repairs, sent customers on their way with their rides running smooth, and just kicked back in between.

By the time the night wound down, the garage was quiet again, just the hum of the last car driving off. Mr. Crash gave a nod before heading out, and I leaned back against my workbench, taking another sip of coffee.

Another good day—steady work, real conversations, and the kind of company that made the grind feel worth it.

Posted

alt text
alt text
CC Activity number: #77
Participants: (Community Members)
Duration: 30+min
Screenshots:  https://imgur.com/a/XZOYmH1
Brief story

 

 

The garage was open again, and this time, I was running things solo. No crew, no backup—just me, my tools, and the steady flow of cars pulling in. The smell of oil and metal filled the air, and the only sounds were the occasional engine revs, the clank of wrenches, and the hum of the highway outside.

One by one, customers rolled in. Some had simple problems—low tire pressure, battery swaps, quick tune-ups. Others brought in rides that had clearly been through hell, needing serious work. Either way, I handled them, no questions asked.

Between jobs, I’d take a moment to lean back, sip some coffee, and just take in the atmosphere. The garage had its own rhythm—moments of calm, then bursts of work when a new car rolled in. The kind of grind I didn’t mind.

By the time the last car was fixed up and sent on its way, the garage was quiet again. I wiped the grease off my hands, took one last look around, then leaned against the workbench, letting out a breath.

Another day, another batch of cars back on the road. No big moments, no drama—just steady work, and that was fine by me.

Posted

alt text
alt text
CC Activity number: #83
Participants: (Community Members)
Duration: 30+min
Screenshots:  https://imgur.com/a/f4N9baY
Brief story
 

The garage was open once again, set up along the LV-LS highway. Business was steady—cars rolling in, getting patched up, and sent back on the road. I worked alone, hands busy with wrenches and grease, keeping the place running.

Then, a Zip truck pulled up—one of those big delivery rigs, built for long hauls but clearly showing signs of wear. The driver hopped out, looking like he’d been on the road for hours.

"Truck's acting up," he said, stretching his arms. "Figured I’d stop by before it gets worse."

I gave the rig a once-over, checking under the hood, testing the tires, making sure everything was in working order. A few adjustments here and there, a little tightening, a little tweaking, and soon enough, the truck was running smooth again.

After settling up, the driver wasn’t in a hurry to leave. We grabbed a couple of chairs, sat down, and just talked for a bit—about the road, work, life in general. One of those casual conversations that just flows, nothing too deep, nothing too serious, just good company for a few minutes.

Eventually, he got up, stretched again, and nodded. "Appreciate it, man. Good work."

With that, he climbed back into his rig, started it up, and rolled out onto the highway.

I watched the truck disappear down the road before turning back to my tools, wiping the grease off my hands. Just another job done, another car  back on the road. No rush, no stress—just the steady rhythm of the garage, one vehicle at a time.

Posted

alt text
alt text
CC Activity number: #88
Participants: (Community Members)
Duration: 30+min
Screenshots:  https://imgur.com/a/nMVjW8x
Brief story

The garage was open, business as usual. I was tinkering with a wrench, waiting for the next job, when a sports car pulled up, its engine humming smooth but clearly craving more power. The driver stepped out, giving his ride an appreciative look before turning to me.

"I wanna tune this thing up—get a little more out of it."

I nodded, already sizing up what could be done. "How about an air intake upgrade? A little fine-tuning? That should give it a nice boost." He liked the idea, so I got to work.

Popping the hood, I installed a high-flow air intake, making sure it fit just right. Then, I fine-tuned the engine, adjusting things to squeeze out that extra bit of performance. While I was at it, I threw in a free oil change—just a little extra touch. No one likes a fast car running on old oil.

Once I was done, I wiped my hands clean and stepped back. "Fire it up."

The driver got in, turned the key, and the engine roared to life—smoother, sharper, breathing better than before. He revved it a couple of times, grinning. "Damn, that’s nice."

When it came time to pay, he didn’t just cover the bill—he tipped 100%. A solid sign of appreciation.

"You know your stuff, man. I’ll be back for more."

With that, he hopped back in, revved once more for good measure, and sped off down the highway, his car running better than ever.

I watched him go, then turned back to my tools, cracking my knuckles. Another happy customer, another smooth job. The day wasn’t over yet—there were more cars to fix, more engines to tune. And I was just getting started

Posted

alt text
alt text
CC Activity number: #91
Participants: (Community Members)
Duration: 30+min
Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/wYFMh5K
Brief story

 

 

Another day at the garage, another customer rolling in. This time, it was a Picador—an old-school workhorse, the kind that’s been through a lot but still holds its own on the road. The driver pulled up, rolled down his window, and nodded at me.

"Need an oil change, nothing fancy."

Simple job. I waved him over to park, grabbed my tools, and got to work. Drained the old, dirty oil, swapped in a fresh filter, and poured in some high-quality oil to keep that engine running smooth. The whole process didn’t take long, but I still made sure everything was done right.

Once I was finished, I closed the hood and wiped my hands on a rag. "You’re good to go."

The driver stepped out, gave his Picador a quick look, then handed over the payment with a satisfied nod. "Appreciate it, man. Keep up the good work." He even had a bit of a grin—always nice to see a customer leave happy.

He hopped back in, fired up the engine, and drove off, the Picador running smoother than when it came in.

With another job wrapped up, I leaned back against my workbench, taking a sip of coffee. Steady work, good pay, and happy customers—just another solid day at the garage.

Posted

alt text
alt text
CC Activity number: #92
Participants: (Community Members)
Duration: 30+min
Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/VpUWadD
Brief story

 

The garage was open, and I was wrapping up another job when a fellow mechanic pulled up. He stepped out, wiping his hands on his coveralls, and walked over with a nod.

"Hey, man. Just wanted to introduce myself—I run a garage around here too. Figured I’d stop by, see what’s up."

I shook his hand, nodding back. "Good to know. Always nice to have more hands in the trade."

He reached into his pocket and handed me a small card. "If you ever need anything—parts, help, whatever—just hit me up."

I glanced at it before tucking it into my pocket. "Appreciate that. Same goes for you—if you ever need anything, we’re here. And if you ever need access to a proper mod shop, we’ve got one over in SF."

His eyebrows raised slightly. "Oh yeah? That might come in handy."

Then, he gestured toward his bike, parked nearby—a sleek, modified ride with some serious work done to it. "Check this out. Did some custom work myself."

I walked over, giving it a good look. The detailing, the upgrades—it was clear he knew his craft. "Damn, that’s clean. What mods you got on it?"

He smirked. "Tuned the engine, swapped out the exhaust, and did some custom bodywork. Runs like a beast now."

We stood there for a bit, talking shop—engines, mods, performance tweaks. Just two mechanics sharing trade secrets and ideas.

After a while, he nodded toward his bike. "Alright, man. Gotta head out. Catch you around."

He hopped on, fired it up with a loud rev, and sped off. I watched him disappear down the highway before heading back to my tools.

Another solid connection made—always good to know there were others out there keeping the trade alive.

Join the conversation

You are posting as a guest. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

×
×
  • Create New...