I just found this place yesterday. It's behind the crappy fresh pond theatre, and I noticed it because of a large lovecraftian sculpture coming out from the back. Here is a review from yelp.
Jeez. Okay, I gave this guy the benefit of the doubt, I really did. I took all the extolling yelpers to heart and decided that he was the mechanic for me. My name is Tamar, my clutch-hungry car's name is Bessie, and here's our story.
First I called around, comparing prices for a new clutch, and when he picked up, rather than gruffly giving me the skinny in a cigarette-beaten Boston accent, he just asked me how much money was in my savings account. "Well," I asked, in no mood to play games, "how much is a new clutch?"
"First you tell me how much you have, then I'll tell you how much I'll charge."
Good guy, right? That's the whole problem--he's an almost disarmingly nice, decent guy. But he's working in a patently practical industry, and the truth is, I want a QUOTE. I went to the garage (an adventure in itself--a note to all yelpers: it's BEHIND FRESH POND CINEMA. Mapquest will lead you hopelessly astray), and he, as has been noted, offered me a cup of tea and had me sit amongst his actually very good artwork while he went off to do mechanic things. When he came back, he told me that my shirt was his favorite color and that he'd knock an extra $100 off the still-unquoted price. Yay, right? BUT WHAT WAS THE PRICE?
"What is that in Farsi? Let's look it up."
"Um...so, I also need my oil changed..."
So we get into a conversation about his artwork, the Middle East conflict, and how we're all connected in a deeply cosmic way...just look up and we'll find the answer in God and unity and spirituality. Beautiful, right?
"So...uh...I also think I have a leak in my trunk, it would be great if you'd check that out too..."
When I actually came back to get my car, one thing I asked for wasn't even done, my mats were covered in oil, and something rattled so fierce I got a mile away before I had to bring it back and go for round two. To be fair, he took it right in and fixed the problems, cleaned the mats, personally cleaned out the mildew-factory that was my trunk, and gave me a ride back to Davis. Super nice of him, right?
He proceeded to spend the majority of this car-ride telling me that I'm overly preoccupied with money and the trivialities of life, and that I should just relax and look up at the stars and gain some perspective. Okay, fair enough, but, dude, YOU'RE NOT MY SPIRITUAL ADVISOR. YOU'RE MY MECHANIC. And I'm sorry that you may be intellectually and spiritually unsatisfied in your chosen profession, but, seriously, THERE IS NOTHING MORE PRACTICAL THAN MECHANIC-ING. I have limited funds, and I need to know that what I need fixed is getting fixed, and I need to know how much it will cost. You fix my car, I give you the money. End of transaction.
My clutch is sticking now, and I kinda feel like God is punishing me. This is not productive.http://www.yelp.com/biz/aladdin-auto-service-cambridge
www.mrkart.com (the automotive website, well worth a look)