Sharrita Laskey v. Tulsa CH Auto, LLC d/b/a Jim Norton T-Town Chevrolet
What's This Case About?
Let’s cut straight to the wild part: a woman paid $22,000 in cold, hard cash for a used car, only to be strong-armed into a “swap” for a new vehicle that came with a secret loan she never agreed to—complete with forged paperwork, a fake trade-in, and a dealership employee telling her to lie about her income to get approved. And then? The bank denied the loan… but still started demanding payments anyway. If this sounds like a scam pulled straight from a Law & Order: Used Car Fraud Unit episode, buckle up—because it’s allegedly real, it allegedly happened in Tulsa, and now Sharrita Laskey is suing for millions.
So who are we talking about? Meet Sharrita Laskey, an Oklahoma City resident who just wanted a safe, reliable car she could buy outright—no loans, no monthly payments, no drama. She walks into Jim Norton T-Town Chevrolet on South Memorial Drive in Tulsa, and guess what? Her cousin, Ant’Juane Baul, works there as a salesperson. Family connection? Check. Trusted referral? Double check. She figures this is going to be smooth sailing. She picks out a used 2019 Nissan Sentra, signs the digital paperwork, and hands over a cashier’s check for $22,108. Done. Or so she thought.
But within days, red flags start popping up like a horror movie jump scare. The wheels are rusted. Like, “did this car spend a decade parked on a salt flat?” levels of rust. She takes it to DC Transmissions in Del City, and they drop the bomb: this car had preexisting damage serious enough that they tell her, flat out, “Take it back to the dealer.” So she does. She calls Jim Norton, asks for a refund, and here’s where the plot takes a hard left into what in the actual dealership territory.
Instead of giving her money back, the dealership offers her a “straight across” swap into a brand-new 2026 Chevrolet Trax—same price, no extra cost, no new paperwork. Her cousin, the salesperson, tells her it’s like the first deal never happened. “Just swap the cars, keep the same payment, all good.” Sounds simple, right? Except… nothing about this is simple. Laskey never signs any new documents for the Trax. No new purchase agreement, no financing contract, no nothing. The dealership says they’ll just “transfer” the old signature and paperwork. She assumes her full $22,108 is being applied to the new car. No loan. No balance. No problem.
But then—plot twist—she finds out there’s a $15,871 loan on the Trax… assigned to Ally Bank. Wait, what? She didn’t apply for financing. She didn’t sign a financing agreement. She didn’t even want a loan. And yet, somehow, her name is on the hook for thousands in debt. When she confronts the dealership, a finance guy named Hal Smith basically says, “Don’t worry, just tell the bank you make more money than you do.” Yep. He allegedly told her to falsify her income to qualify. She refuses—because, hello, that’s fraud—and calls Ally Bank to explain the whole mess. She lays it all out: no consent, no new documents, dealership told her to lie, cousin involved, everything. Ally listens… and then says, “Sorry, not our problem. Talk to the dealership.”
Then comes the next layer of absurdity: Ally denies the loan application… but still sends her bills demanding payments on that same denied loan. Let that sink in. They said no… but are acting like yes. It’s like being rejected from a credit card and then getting monthly statements anyway. And it gets worse. Laskey discovers the dealership only applied $14,000 of her $22,108 as a “trade-in” value for her old Sentra—even though she never agreed to trade it in, never signed a trade-in bill of sale (it’s literally blank and unsigned), and was told this was a cash swap, not a trade. The rest of her money? Vanished. Not applied. Not credited. Just… gone.
Oh, and the price of the new Trax? The window sticker says $27,755. But the financing contract—the one she didn’t sign or even see—says $30,855. That’s a $3,100 markup. And wait—there’s more. The dealership tacked on $5,854 in service contracts—extended warranties, maintenance plans, who knows what else—without her consent, without offering her a chance to review or reject them. And the Retail Installment Sales Contract (RISC)? Unsigned. Undated. And lists a dealership address—8130 East Skelly Drive—that she never even visited. All her dealings were at the Memorial Drive location.
So why are we in court? Because this isn’t just a case of buyer’s remorse. This is a kitchen-sink lawsuit with claims that read like a consumer protection bingo card: breach of contract, fraud, violation of the Oklahoma Consumer Protection Act, Uniform Commercial Code violations, negligence, rescission (basically, “undo this whole mess”), and even “ratification/fruit of the fraud” liability—a fancy way of saying, “You can’t profit from a scam.” And Ally Bank isn’t off the hook just because they’re the lender. Under federal rules, when a dealership sells a loan to a bank, the bank inherits all the dealer’s sins—so if the deal was fraudulent from the start, the bank can’t just wash its hands and say, “Not our fault.”
Now, what does Laskey want? The filing doesn’t specify an exact dollar amount—just a demand for “actual, consequential, and exemplary damages,” plus attorney fees and costs. But let’s be real: we’re talking potentially millions here. Why? Because you’ve got credit damage, emotional distress, out-of-pocket losses, and punitive damages on the table for what looks like a brazen, multi-layered scheme. Is $50,000 a lot for this? Try $500,000. Try $2 million. When you’ve got a dealership allegedly forging documents, inflating prices, adding unauthorized charges, instructing customers to commit fraud, and a bank denying a loan while still trying to collect on it? That’s not just a bad day at the dealership. That’s a systemic failure wrapped in a scam, deep-fried in audacity.
And here’s our take: the most absurd part isn’t even the hidden loan. It’s the sheer confidence of the whole operation. The dealership didn’t just mess up—they allegedly engineered a transaction designed to trap a customer in debt she never agreed to, using her own cousin as the friendly face of the scam. And Ally Bank? They got a front-row seat to the whole thing—heard the customer say, “I didn’t consent, they told me to lie”—and their response was, “Cool story, here’s your bill.” That’s not negligence. That’s complicity. And the fact that they denied the loan but still tried to collect? That’s not just shady. That’s Kafkaesque.
We’re rooting for Sharrita Laskey not because she’s flawless, but because she’s the one person in this story who actually followed the rules. She paid cash. She asked for help when things went wrong. She refused to lie. And instead of fixing it, the dealership and the bank treated her like a mark. If this case is even half as wild as the petition claims, it’s not just a civil dispute—it’s a cautionary tale about what happens when profit trumps honesty, and why you should never trust a car deal that sounds too good to be true… especially when your cousin’s involved.
We’re entertainers, not lawyers. But if we were jurors? We’d want answers. And receipts. And someone’s license to sell cars.
Case Overview
-
Sharrita Laskey
individual
Rep: Minal Gahlot, OBA #22145
- Tulsa CH Auto, LLC d/b/a Jim Norton T-Town Chevrolet business
- Ally Bank business
| # | Cause of Action | Description |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | breach of contract, fraud/fraudulent inducement, violation of the Oklahoma Consumer Protection Act (OCPA), Violation of Uniform Commercial Code (UCC), negligence, rescission/revocation, and ratification/fruit of the fraud liability | Plaintiff claims that Defendants engaged in deceptive practices and misrepresentations during the purchase of a used vehicle, resulting in financial loss and damage to her credit. |