I'm kind of a big deal

So, the transmission on the Honda goes kaput. Not kaput as in "energetically disassembles" kaput, but it's noticeable that things are awry... askew... a-not-so-good. Lisa, in her OCD researchy way, discovered that this was a common problem for Hondas of our ilk and that your mileage may vary as to whether the dealership would stick it to you. So, we were prepared for a fight.

Upon dropping the vehicle off this morning, things were not looking good; we were headed in the direction of getting oh so stuck. The service guy feigned ignorance as to the commonplace nature of the problem.

Later, the dealership calls Lisa and the stick is on. $3500 for a new transmission. Pshaw! Lisa summoned her mighty bunny indignant righteousness and pounded her little fist verily, which resulted in her speaking to someone trained to deal with such a ferocious onslaught. "How many Hondas have you owned?" asked the Honda poopscreen. "Three" was the answer, with the clear implication that if they wanted to trade a $3500 transmission for a $35,000 sale on a new car, they were well on their way to success. The woman poopscreen takes this under advisement (note: I'm not using the term "poopscreen" derogatively--I'm a poopscreen, and for Honda no less).

Lisa calls me and I call the dealership. The service guy wants to argue over semantics about what is or isn't a "recall." I allow him this indulgence while I take notes. My plan is simple: I'm going to amass a body of evidence so overwhelming, so utterly complete and unassailable, and then call my contacts within Honda corporate and beat them about the head and shoulders until the word comes from on high to the dealership that this error on their part will be dealt with promptly and gratis.

After picking Lisa up from work, we plot our next step in the education of Honda. First, there's the "I'm kind of a big deal" spiel. Let them know that future business hinges on this decision. Let them know that should they resist, holy hell will rain down on them as Lisa, social media maven that she is, goes to war with Honda on the internet. While we're doing this, the phone rings. It's the service guy. There's a long pause. A really long pause. Is he waiting to see who speaks first? Oh, enough of this already! "Yes?" My response lingers with expectancy. "Would you be willing to pay a hundred dollar deductible?" "You mean instead of paying $3500?" "Yes, and you get a 3-year, 36,000-mile warranty." Victory! Because, I don't know how to put this, but I'm kind of a big deal.