When shopping for a vehicle, a place that advertises a down payment on the window between $300-$500 should be a LAST resort. This being said, as a result of regrettable financial decisions in the past, and bad luck, I found myself at this place with just enough for a down payment, in desperate need of a car.
When I first arrived, I wandered around the lot for five minutes or so before I went inside and asked for help. The place absolutely REEKED of cigarette smoke, and without looking up, the nicest person in that building yelled for a salesman, and from some back office I couldn't see, a man emerged and followed me outside. We spoke for a few minutes, and I found out that they do not report any payments to any credit agencies, but that they are working on it, and that I am not allowed to test drive the vehicle until I fill out an application. Well, I still need a car, so I'll worry about the credit agencies once I have a ride to work again.
Alright, now to the really fun part. The application. On the application they ask the usual questions, then on the back you're asked to list any bills you pay. I'm assuming this is so that they can determine what you can afford based on your income to debt ratio. Cool. I've got no real bills aside from a phone bill so I'm basically the perfect candidate to get one of these cars, right? Nope. None of the information I provided seemed to be good enough for any of the women who were the only thing standing between me and a car I could absolutely afford. The one in the back held my application between her fingers like I'd just blown my nose into it and asked for more and more information. I did the best I could and provided references of friends and family with the most recent address I had for each of them, and was asked for my parents' information (since I live with them). I REALLY didn't want them to call my folks because I was a little ashamed to have stooped so low in my search for a vehicle. They were not happy with that, but began to call my references anyway. I phoned each person on that list and let them know to be expecting a call any second from this place and they were all happy to help. Five minutes later one of the women working there (while holding my application like I've now wiped my bum with it) tells me that they cannot accept the application because my friends don't know my home address. So, basically, an hour of my life has been wasted because I never bothered to give my friends my parents' address. It didn't matter that I knew their addresses, or that any of them could give accurate directions TO my house. What mattered was that they couldn't tell these people my home address.
I've never left a review on anything in my life, but I felt compelled to do so after my experience here. I have a good job, I am well-mannered, and I had enough money to buy one of their cars. I was treated like a low-life criminal because I didn't have everything I needed to appease the manager of this place. In case anyone was wondering, I DID manage to buy a car that day from a different place that I found on my way back home. A place where they knew my situation and did their best to help me. read more