White River Toyota has a staff that, on the surface, seems friendly and welcoming. The salespeople greet you with smiles and handshakes, making you feel like they genuinely care about your needs. The finance team is polite, and the service desk staff offer a warm hello when you walk in. They’re chatty, asking about your day or your plans for the car, which creates a pleasant first impression. It’s clear they’ve been trained to put customers at ease, and for a moment, you might think you’re in good hands. Their friendliness is a bright spot, but it doesn’t hold up under scrutiny.
The wait times, however, are unbearable. I sat at a desk for over three hours, twiddling my thumbs, while the staff shuffled papers and disappeared for long stretches. Even after asking how much longer it would take, I got vague answers like “soon” or “we’re working on it,” only to wait another eternity. The frustration builds as you’re left staring at the same dealership walls, wondering why it takes so long to process a straightforward purchase. It’s as if they’re stalling on purpose, and no amount of inquiry speeds things up. You’re trapped, watching the clock tick, feeling ignored.
Then come the dealer tactics. My wife, with an over-800 credit score, was quoted just under 9% interest—absurd for her profile. They pushed hard, using guilt trips when we hesitated to reveal our trade-in payoff, making us feel small for questioning their numbers. For a $30,000 purchase, not one manager bothered to say hello or thank us. We were herded through like assembly-line parts, not customers. The friendly staff can’t mask the long waits and shady finance games—White River Toyota feels more like a profit mill than a dealership.
The ding on the wheel well was not disclosed to me either. I didn’t notice it. They certainly didn’t note it !!!!
Our salesman, Brian Moore, made it worse. He was juggling multiple customers, darting between desks like a caffeinated pinball, and left us for dead. We’d get five minutes of his attention before he’d vanish to haggle with someone else, leaving us stranded. we felt like an afterthought. For a $30,000 sale, you’d expect focus, not abandonment. Brian’s chaos added insult to injury, turning a frustrating experience into a maddening one.