The Consumer Complaints Blog

My mother decided to buy a new minivan this year. Why anyone without 3 or more kids would want a minivan is really beyond my understanding but everyone is entitled to their choice I suppose.

The car is a 2007 Toyota Sienna purchased from Dave Nicholls Toyota in Toronto (North York). After a couple of weeks of ownership it wouldn’t start anymore intermittently. The engine cranked over just fine but wouldn’t start. Today I borrowed it to go to a meeting and spent 10 minutes in the parking lot after the meeting trying to get it started. Enough was enough so I decided to stop off at the Dave Nicholls Toyota service centre on the way back.

The car only has 670 kilometres (416 miles) on the odometer so I figured it couldn’t be anything too serious. After fighting downtown traffic and infamous Toronto seasonal construction on every possible route back, I pull into Dave Nicholls.

The counter exchange went as planned and I always expect a long wait at these places so everything seemed normal at first. They actually said it would only take about an hour which was fine with me. I even went outside to talk to the mechanic when he grabbed the car just to be sure he understood what the problem was. Communication tends to break down at these service centres so I had a quick chat and he seemed to get what was wrong after asking me a few questions. I was feeling very good at this point. The Chrysler service centre is a far worse experience. Maybe buying that Toyota was a good idea.

After about 45 - 55 minutes or so a woman walks in. She’s maybe in her fifties. The first thing that caught my attention, because it was at eye level where I was sitting, was her stretch-mark riddled belly hanging out between her pants and her too short shirt. Now I’m not one to disparage a woman for having stretch marks. They could just be a sign of child birth or what have you. We all work with what we’re given. I think what bothered me most was the fact that it was hanging out in my face. I’m all for people wearing what they like but there comes a time when clothing becomes inappropriate for age and body type. At other times in a human’s life there are safeguards built into society to deal with these types of situations. For example, if a 14 year old went to school in diapers and a bib he/she would be appropriately ridiculed and perhaps asked to go home by the teacher.

For whatever reason when we reach adulthood, we no longer have these cultural safeguards, be they good or bad. So someone that’s over 50 feels it appropriate to dress like an 18 year old. Now if you take into account that the difference between a toddler and a teenager is just over 10 years, and the difference between 50’s and 18 is at least 32 years, you start to see my point.

But back to the story.

The Service Manager, Quaison Parris (trying very hard not to refer to him as Quasant because that would be childish) greets her and takes her information. That’s cool. Even the manager is working, I thought. I had a seat right in front of the service desk so I could hear every detail. She goes on about some kind of squeaky wiper and service engine light and so on. Wow, her Toyota must be worse than mine. Poor lady. I thought these were supposed to be good cars.

Then Quaison calls for a mechanic from the back. Hey there’s the guy that’s working on my car. Their exchange follows:

Quaison: “I need you to look at this car. Make sure the codes are cleared and have a look at the wiper. She says it’s squeaking.”

Mechanic: “But I’m working on this job now”, pointing to a paper. (Yes yes. that’s my job.)

Q: “It’s okay. Just do this for me.”

M: “Okay…” Looking sheepish.

What the hell was that? Is this some kind of reverse racism or something? What’s going on. It’s getting late. The guy is working on my car and I just got bumped. I have things to do. Work to finish…

I sit there for a bit brooding and trying to figure out if what just happened actually just happened. I don’t want to cause a scene for no reason. Okay. Maybe it won’t take long. I sit and wait. Eventually I watch the mechanic go to the manger’s office and grab a handheld computer, presumably to clear the codes on the car as instructed.

I watch the woman go into Quaison’s office and chat with him for about 20 - 30 minutes. Oh… it wasn’t racism, just good old fashioned nepotism. She chats with him, then comes out and chats with another employee.

Okay now I’m pissed. But the cell phone rings and I have to go outside to take a phone call on which I mention that I just got bumped (within earshot of the service desk). At this point Quaison is in the woman’s car outside chatting it up. Or perhaps getting a sexual favour. I was on the phone so wasn’t really paying close attention.

I finish the phone call and go back in. The service counter guy is sitting far away at someone else’s desk and sort of side-glancing at me while talking to his female co-worker. He must have heard. Well, I kind of made sure he heard me on the way out to be honest.

It doesn’t take long and the mechanic comes back from the shop and goes straight to the service guy. They both approach me.

Service guy: “He thinks that it is probably caused by the anti theft system that prevents the car from starting. But he needs more time to check it out.”

Me: “So it won’t be done today?”

SG: “No. We’re closing in fifteen minutes and you don’t want to be stuck here so…”

Me: “I guess it wouldn’t have taken so long if he hadn’t bumped me.”

At this point they both look at the floor and the service guy mutters something that sounded like “Yeah…” or “Yes…” or maybe it was “I’m really sorry. My boss is a real asshole. I can’t say much because as soon as he comes back from getting his hand-job he might fire me.”

But don’t quote me on that. Like I said he kind of said it as he was looking down and I couldn’t make it out completely. But he probably said hand-job.

I told them to just give me my car back. I might bring it back on Tuesday (I forgot to mention that it was a Friday ahead of a long weekend) and that I’d wait outside.

While I was waiting for them to put the car back together and bring it out, Quaison decides to come out of the car and starts walking back to the front door. I think he noticed the look of death I was giving him because he asked me which car was mine with a big smile.

Me: “They’re just bringing it around. It was the car you bumped for your friend’s job.”

Q: “Oh no. That was just for a gas cap. She was just bringing it back…”

I have a hard time controlling looks of utter disgust and intent of imminent bodily harm which he must have observed as I sneered/huffed “yeah…” because he scurried away as quickly as he said his lame excuse. Or maybe he really doesn’t care at all which is probably the case.

So just to get things straight for my own benefit. The woman brought the car back. I heard her complaints. I heard his instructions to the mechanic to clear the codes and check the car and the wiper. I watched the mechanic come to his office to retrieve an automotive computer checker. And that was all for the sake of a lowly gas cap?

I must look pretty stupid to him.

Now I’m not completely against nepotism but I was the only other person in the waiting room, besides the woman. There were at least 4 other mechanics I could see in the shop. The least he could have done was put someone else on the job instead of the one mechanic that was working on a waiting customer’s job.

When I got home I closed the door to the car to find a scratch that was not there before. Since it’s a new car, not mine, and I’m a bit paranoid, I check every time I get in. Well except for the one time when I got my car back at Dave Nicholls Toyota because the mechanic opened the door as he got out to give me the key. Before I got out and noticed the scratch, I also found a bolt in the glove compartment. The car is brand new so all the compartments were empty. Is this what people mean when they say “the icing on the cake”?

In summary I always like to say a little something for the search engines to pick up. Dave Nicholls Toyota Sucks. And Dave Nicholls Toyota in Toronto sucks. Oh what the hell one more. Yorkdale Toyota Suck. (They’re moving soon so I want to cover all my bases.)

The ironic thing is that my wife and I were thinking of buying a Toyota. I would have gone to Dave Nicholls Toyota for it but I’m sure as hell going to find a different dealer now. Or maybe buy a Volkswagen instead.

I have to go back Saturday to talk to them and will update this post accordingly. Should be fun.