2017 Honda Civic - 26 Batteries Included

How did it come to this?

I was loading the batteries, what they called battery "cores," when they were no longer functional in the back of my once pristine Honda Civic.

 

The Service Departments of the dealerships take them in as part of a rebate for a new battery. The value of what would be taken off is according to how old the battery is and condition of it. 

 

The irony was completed mind bewildering.

My pride and joy when I was able to make this car mine. When I was going through the big D, I was like, when it is all done, you are going to be on your feet and get your shit together and start a new life; you are going to purchase something special. At the beginning of my saga, I leaned more toward getting a watch, but that was not my style. Perhaps in the future, but this was not it.

Anywhoo, back to the time at hand. This stop to deliver parts was positioned so that when the wind whipped up, it was most prevalent there. Placement of the Service and Parts department was an afterthought post-new Dealerships Showfloor. The overall expanse of parking lots and cars prepped for used cars all around made it open to the weather.

As I unloaded the oblong parts in the back of the Civic from the hallway before the service desk, I walked through the cigarette smoke (yes, there was no smoking there, but they did not believe in that). The nicotine cloud was always in the air; the yellow fluorescent lights projected an image of a Cancer cloud.

I would avoid any deliveries there if I felt I had a headache. If I had to deliver there, I would do my best to slide the part down the hallway just close to enough where they could see something was dropped off.

If it fell on its side, so be it; I can not stand the smell of cigarette smoke and then know damn well that they are in the wrong.

Be that as it may, I was just the person delivering their stuff. My role was a non-significant peon and, therefore, rules be damned.

My process of getting in the doors with nobody to hold them open was as such: utilizing the boxes of irregular shape and size to keep one door open as you try to move through the entrance. I was wearing two pairs of gloves on both hands. The only thing this really did was impeded complete hand movement and not have your skin exposed to the cold air. A futile attempt when the wind is 30 degrees or 20 degrees below 0.

There was an immediate left you had to make and a long hallway. My glasses would fog up because I was wearing a black mask to stop my face from freezing. It was screwed, you can't see or screwed your face is wind burn; how do you like your pain, lol.

Could you guys start bringing back the batteries we took in exchange for the new ones?

Being eager to please, and maybe by some chance, I would do such a good job I would be noticed – well, one can hope. Stranger things have happened =)

"Yep, we can do that."

Keep this in mind; it is not like that hell, we had other couriers besides myself who have vans they personally owned to take these old and leaking batteries back to the Parts Warehouse I was delivering for. Before I thought this completely through, as with many things in my life, it may not be the wisest thing to be taking old, cracked, and g-d know why these batteries were returned to my once pristine Honda Civic.

There I was, grabbing the two-wheel cart. Getting the cart to angle back and having the batteries stay on top of each other was a skill. Then you have to slowly move them through the doors with the force of the wind pushing back at you. I pondered. Hell, these fuckers are heavier than I thought them to actually be. Not only batteries being heavy, most having handles long since broken off, but I was also bare handing them into the civic. My fingers were numb, and now they were sliding down in a controlled freefall into the back of my car.

Blunk, Blunk, Blunk, the sounds of the plastic, some cracked and some broken and some taped, if you can imagine, in a feeble attempt to keep them in one piece, or sometimes just two. When done with the first load, I closed the hatchback. The wind made it come down harder than I really wanted and not to mention the absorber that keeps it up gave it no favor when it came down. Ten batteries have started to display a little squat, and another ten gave it a more pronounced squat.

Not too long ago, I was in the Germain Honda Service Bay, my car being presented to me. I responded with 

"WOW, WOW, WOW, over and over again." 

my emotion of being 'Stupid Happy' is the best you could say. This car was brand new; I was actually getting it on a break from my workplace. My mantra is in my head "I am not going to do what I have done to other cars that I owned in the past.

That means not trashing it, eating in it, scratching it all up, beating on it, and just basically abusing the shit out of it with no abandon.

What I Saw It Like - Simple Man's Version of a CLS 550 Coupe lol =)

My version is it is 1/3 the price of the Mercedes Benz CLS 550. It was a far stretch to think of it along with such a world-class Coupe that was 4 doors, so that was the underlying tone when it came out.

This was after the changes in my personal life. Giddy as giddy could be with something so new and impeccable because I had taken the Honda Pilot on Default and 650 dollars in taxes.  

The Pilot was still a representation of what WAS, not what IS now in my mind.

Anything remotely related back to that other life, whatever adjective, noun, words, feeling, that suburbia bullshit that was not me and never was, had to be gone!. The practicality that it so enamored with whenever it would be seen or mentioned. G-d that word, I will never like that word. It makes my skin crawl back to where, oh nevermind.

Yes, this car was going to take me into my 40's. I know to say the vehicle represents oneself could seem a tad, oh hell, very shallow and materialistic, but I am a car guy to the core. I was a different person, practical or any sense of it was not and still is not anything I would ever aspire to be! Like it or not, a car does display you in it. Right or wrong, left or right, junk or exotic, what you drive is part of you.

When I first saw it, I told my sons it was raining and cold. We could not drive or see any cars because it was too late, and the weather was beyond crappy!

"THIS IS NOT THE CAR I AM GOING TO BUY."

That was before I found out it could fit two kids' seats back there, and then it was the car I was going to buy. No, it was not the Vette I desired, but it had been an expensive personal change journey. I had someone incredible in my life that will end up being my life partner! She loved me for me and not how I should be!

I was looking to start my life with my sons on my terms. Houses were being looked at and the weekend dad was coming to fruition.

The selection of this car warranted a call from the Mortgage Officer I was working with……We agreed that you would not spend more than so and so on a vehicle, and you spent this? Is this true, Kevin, I responded back.

"Hell Yeah, Why? Because I wanted it! And that is why!"

Her response was, "Well, we will not be able to go after this particular house."

I said, "well, so be it. There will be others."

I hung up without having to say anything else.

• That time was long gone in my life, having to defend everything I did
• Why I did what and
• How I came to this or that conclusion.

Fuck that life, that was back then and this was now dammit!

MY TIME TO LIVE!

Be that as it may, you know what they say

"People plan and g-d laughs."

Unfortunately, right after signing on for the lease of my life, body protection, sure, tire protection, sure, and of course, maintenance was included. There were better choices, more common sensical choices, and less expensive choices. I was hell-bent after driving it; my significant other begged me to look at Hyundai, Kia, and others.

The payment was too much, but it is all relative when you are making good money.

"Easy come, easy go, as they say."

What was the hook was that this car was the only one in the city! Sorry, I was a complete sucker when it came to this car.

I REALLY GAVE NO SHITS - IT WAS GOING TO BE MINE!

"How many batteries are you going to get in that Civic."

I considered that an affront to my masculinity, and I responded in spite and sarcasm,

"As many as you have."

When I thought the trunk would not swallow anymore, I moved to the back seat footwell and went to the front passenger seat. Craziness, I don't even own this car. Keep in mind this car was barely broken after 1 year. But it was now loaded like any car you have seen. Now the other people milling about heard what I was doing and wanted to witness this vehicularcide; I got back in my car and proceeded back to the warehouse.

When showing up, they were like, "Ok, we can go get them." The one gentleman that I worked with, always very kind, from the Ivory Coast was like

"Kevin, I can get them; keep your car nice, I have a van, and you do not worry about it. Keep that Honda Clean and Nice. A van is what is good for batteries."

I responded back, "Nope, already got them." He looked at me and said

"Where did you put cracked and bad batteries at the dealership? I know because I have done this before at other jobs."

Wearing a Huge Shit Eating Grin still, I backed the civic up the forklift ramp. I slowly showed them all because I did not want the frame to grind against the concrete.

"You are CRAZY MAN, you are CRAZY. How do you know you are not going to break anything?"

They all knew I was leasing my car, and they were like, WHY would you want to deliver car parts while all the miles to your car? Stupid is as stupid does, and I needed a job where I could work during the day, and then I had the Harry and David gig at night. I was in debt; I needed all I could grab then!

Whatever the Honda was capable of, I was going to do it if possible.

Kevin put the batteries in the warehouse over there. As if showing off a prize, I decided not to close the hatchback and went to the warehouse about 50 yards away from the main office building. Some of these batteries needed to be whole. Some were taped up and variously attempts to keep them almost whole. I started unloading them, one by one, and then I was removing one and I noticed the battery acid stained the back seat. ( I figured out what that weird smell I could not place was coming from.) I felt terribly bad about that, especially so when I realized it actually deformed the seat a tad. That just added to the abuse that I put the Honda Civic thru in one freakin' day! 

When you were not out doing deliveries, you had a scanner and would stock parts in the warehouse. I got back to my post, and I awaited the next time I would go out. It was the talk of the warehouse, how Kevin tried to kill his Civic. It was well done, not precisely with the right tools, but done all the same. Big deal, what else?

If you ever wanted to know how many battery cores it can take, try 26 is the number, and no trouble with any of the drivetrain or undercarriage or suspension once so ever.

Wait, what was I saying, oh yeah. In additionally doing the battery core returns, I also did two bus batteries for a local college. The civic took it fine as well. That car, during those times, became a truck in that sense to me. I knew whatever I had to do; it was going to help me get it done.

Little did I know that was just the start of utilizing the civic as my workhorse.   

I have more blogs of just that in the very near Future.