Fred Just Motors

Great People, Great Experience Found a car that I liked online, went to their place (family business), Ken and Kate were very welcoming, they let me test drive 4 vehicles until I ar Found a car that I liked online, went to their place (family business), Ken and Kate were very welcoming, they let me test drive 4 vehicles until I arrived to my choice. Everything that came later was quick, professional and painless. Great people with great experience, and genuine service. More

Who knew buying a car could be an enjoyable experience? After a recent Google search, I discovered a car I was interested in Belleville. It was a 2006 Toyota Matrix. Test-driving the car and getting it home After a recent Google search, I discovered a car I was interested in Belleville. It was a 2006 Toyota Matrix. Test-driving the car and getting it home posed a small logistical challenge; I live on an island near Kingston and, at the time, was living without a car. Add to that the fact that I'd never had insurance in Ontario and had to have proof of insurance sent to my new would-be insurance provider before I could even think about driving a car off the lot. Yet I needed a car, and this Matrix looked like it might be the one. What was I to do? I began by sending an inquiry to Kate at Fred Just Motors, to ask whether the car was still available and whether she had any suggestions regarding my predicament. She said that she or her husband, Ken, would be happy to come and pick me up at the railway station, should I come to Belleville to see the car. Not only that, but on learning that I might have to wait a few days for insurance documentation to come though, she said that they go to Kingston often enough, and that they could deliver the car if need be. This was all said in a very neighborly way, not in a way that gave the impression they were desperate for a sale. After putting some pressure on my old insurance company to hurry up and send a letter to my prospective Ontario insurer and, in turn, telling my prospective insurer to be on the lookout for said letter, I hopped on a train to Belleville. When I walked off the platform I saw the Matrix sitting in the parking lot, looking every bit as clean and tidy as it had in the photograph on the Fred Just Motors website. Behind the wheel sat Ken Just. When he saw me coming, he got out and told me I ought to be the one driving. We talked for a few minutes and looked at the car's interior features before going anywhere. Ken told me where the car had come from and answered questions I had about its ownership and maintenance history. Then off we went on a test-drive that took us onto the 401, a provincial highway, and then a local road, affording me a wide range of conditions in which to assess the vehicle's performance in a short span of time. Back at the dealership, which is on the site of Ken and Kate's home, we climbed out and looked at the exterior, including the undercarriage and under the hood. Once Ken was sure I didn't have any more questions, he discreetly withdrew into his house so that I could continue looking at the car and thinking without feeling the pressure of a looming car salesman behind me. I spent a good fifteen minutes taking apart the spare-tire compartment in the trunk, crawling around under the chassis, and looking under the carpets for signs of rust or mould. I decided to make an offer. Ken was receptive to my offer, coming down to meet me at a reasonable price somewhere on my side of the middle, and throwing in a pair of second-hand winter tires (on rims) to sweeten the deal. In theory, what happened from here on out was strictly my responsibility. Getting the car plated, insured, and safely back to my island home should have been up to me. But Ken and Kate would have none of this. "Whether or not the insurance comes through," said Ken, "we're not going to let you go home on a train." So while Ken drew up the ownership documents, Kate spent several hours driving me around Belleville. I had learned that my new insurance man just so happened to work out of an office in town, and after a trip to the bank and lunch downtown (yes, I had lunch with the person selling me a car!), I marched up to his office, while Kate patiently waited downstairs, and arrived just as the needed documentation had popped into his inbox. I signed my new policy, sliced him a cheque, and went back downstairs to meet Kate. We went to the Service Ontario counter and got new plates for the vehicle in a matter of minutes. Then it was back to the dealership, where Ken had loaded the winter tires into the back of the Matrix. He put the new plates on for me. We all shook hands and said it had been a pleasure, and off I drove, the happy owner of a new car. The car itself has been going along great so far. It is a pleasure to drive, gets good mileage, and looks nice sitting in front of my house. Time will tell how dependable it is, but what's certain is that the usually dreaded experience of buying it was, on the contrary, a distinct pleasure. I spent the better part of my Friday riding a train, crawling in pavement under a car, and running in an out of banks an offices. It sounds like a nightmare, but at the end of the day, as I sat chatting with my neighbor, I said, "You know what? That was a really enjoyable day. I almost wish I could go do it all again next Friday." Almost. More