phouka, you realize that he is going around to his friends saying “why don’t girls like nice guys?! I’m a nice guy! They just want the bad boys!”
Y’know, I just realized that during the short time I worked as a salesdroid at my local Saturn dealer (I was too honest to even sell Saturns for frak’s sake…) my sales manager was a “Ron”…
The guy was a major arsehole, though he was Og’s gift to the world of car sales, and wanted things done his way to-the-letter, he was always bragging about his time in “The Marines”, nobody liked him, especially not the customers, every time I went to him with info on a potential sale, it was either “wrong” or “missing information”, he kept stealing my sales or otherwise taking credit for them
I kept hoping he would run himself over with that smegging Aura he loved so much…
So, yeah, “Rons” are bad…
Going around to his friends? He’s probably posted it on this board at some time or other. He has likely read this thread and laughed, thinking that phouka’s story is about someone else.
I can completely see this happening. And in the next breath, he’ll tell them how many hot bitches he’s screwed, and how I clearly was intimidated by the size of his penis and his mastery of its uses.
I just heard a story today about a Ron. This is about third-hand, so maybe it’s a legend.
A friend was doing recruitment for some firm in Boston. Once, they called in a recent MIT graduate for an interview.
He showed up in pajama bottoms and a T-Shirt. Then at the start of the interview, he wanted to know how the company would set the job up to fit his needs. He also asked how they kept daily track of how he was doing in relation to everyone else in the company.
The interviewer ended the interview right there.
You’re so vain you probably don’t think this thread is about you …
And I thought this thread was the best the Dope had to offer
… until I saw the original Ron thread.
Melody, you deserve some kind of award for this. Brav-freaking-o.
JimRon first found me on Yahoo.
I was newly separated and in the process of moving from SC to Denver and had decided to update my directory profile while I was thinking about it. Back then, I used to volunteer as an internet dj for a small online radio station – so I often kept Yahoo messenger open so I could take requests, talk to the other djs, and interact with our fans (it was actually a lot of fun.) Because we valued our listeners (and ran on donations) – I was always pretty friendly to strangers who would randomly IM me. I made sure they were tuned in to the station and then I would answer their questions or take their song requests, etc.
So JimRon IMs me and we start chatting. It isn’t too long before I realize that he’s not interested in the station, but the fact that I recently changed my status to single (separated) and Denver. And he asks me out on a date. Okay, okay – more like he asks me for a booty call. But I sweetly explain to him that I am not living in Denver yet – was still in SC for another week or so.
So we go back to chatting, and he’s in to music and I’m in to music and we are having an all right time. Of course, I should mention, I’m also djing my show and chatting with other listeners – so I’m somewhat distracted, just having snatches of conversation with him here and there. We add each other as friends, and I agree that when I come out to Denver we’ll see about a date.
JimRon continues to chat me up when he sees me online – even showing me pictures of himself with his adorable baby daughter – and I start to get intrigued. I have been out of the dating scene for almost 9 years at this point, and certainly have never dated online – but I figured – okay, new experiences and all that.
So I move to Denver, where I literally know nobody. I have a semi-friendly roommate who is not my type at all (she immediately sees my fluffy faboo-ness and deems me out of place in Denver because everyone is so healthy there. I explain to her that I’ve been to WalMart and I have seen my people, so don’t try to kid a kidder.) I spend most of my days pounding the pavement for a job, and most of my nights filling out applications while hosting my radio show. JimRon keeps chatting with me, and asking me for a date. But I realize that he lives like 90 minutes from Denver, and his car is “in the shop” so that means I would have to drive myself to some unknown place for a date with a guy I didn’t know. I politely demure.
Three weeks and my first glass of wine later, and JimRon has told me I need to get out of the basement and away from the booze and let him show me a good time. Things get a little horny, and we start discussing the various colors of my bras. Turns out, he’s partial to red and I agree to wear that on our Sunday date. My first date in 9 years. I have a job interview on Monday so we agree to an early date so I can get back home at a decent hour.
I leave for the date with printed Yahoo Map directions and drive to his town. It’s semi-dark when I get there and at first glance, his apartment complex looks a bit like the courtyard in Melrose Place. I park my car and look for his apartment number and realize it’s really a converted motel. But I soldier on. I find his door and he invites me in while he grabs a few things.
First thing I noticed: He’s not 5’9” at all – more like 5’7”. I’m 5’9”+, so I’m thankful I didn’t wear heels.
Secondly: He didn’t shower! He admits shamefacedly that he took a nap and woke up late, so he didn’t have time to shave or shower. He’s got a ball cap over his greasy hair, and a sweatshirt pulled over some jeans.
Thirdly: The things he’s trying to grab? A coupon for a local Chinese buffet. Seems he hadn’t planned out our date at all – he was flipping through the coupon book when I pulled up and picking out different options based on my preferences between fast food chains or buffets.
Why didn’t I turn around then? Well, because I had just driven 2 hours, I was hungry, and I hadn’t had a date in 9 years or sex in mumble, mumble years. And I figured, see it through.
We go out to dinner, and I hear all about JimRon’s life story – and it isn’t really pretty. We had talked about going to hear some live music – but he’s a recovering alcoholic and doesn’t want to be around booze. There’s no good movies playing – he suggests we rent a video. It doesn’t take me long to realize he’s broke and pitiful, but I was not the confident person I am now. So I suggest we just watch one of the 100 movies I saw at his house, and he agrees.
We get back to his tiny place, and we sit on the couch and watch the movie (an action adventure flick with William Dafoe in camo). At one point, he pulls up his sweatshirt and asks me to scratch his back. Stunned, I do for a minute or so. Then he pulls his sweatshirt back down and we continue watching the movie. I excuse myself to the bathroom, and he pauses the movie. While I’m gone, he goes and gets a pepsi can. I was about to ask him for a sip when I realized it was a spit can for his chewing tobacco. I try not to gag.
The movie ends, he turns to me and says, “So – you going to show me your bra?”
My eyes pop. “Is that your line?” I ask in surprise.
“I’m 36 years old,” he says. “I don’t have time for lines.”
I look him straight in the eye. “You better make time.”
And thus was the legend of Bra Boy born.
So … did you show him your bra?
Runs, hides
:smack:
Whether or not I showed him my bra has more to do with the mumble, mumble years without sex than the lack of class or couth. Curse you for figuring this out so quickly.
Note to self: be more decorous when asking melody to scratch my back.
Then you may want to change you title to something other that “That kind of Girl”
Priceless!
But then, what does that make you, for willing to go out with a guy despite his obvious Ron-ness? Was he just a “sympathy Ron?”
nope.
Practice.
Anyway, to divert attention from Melodyharmonius and the Bra-Boy I offer up for your enjoyment…
Maybe NSFW… I can’t get to that site from work…the Nuns frown on this site, evidently…
Nah. He’s not bright enough to use the board.
Are you kidding? He FOUNDED this board. He invented all the code, too. But then he got stabbed in the back and they took it all from him.
You ever seen that movie Tron? Well it was originally Ron but then Al Gore stepped in . . . .
I haven’t seen the Ron Thread or the Ron Thread II until today, and I’ve worked my way through BOTH of them in one sitting. Fantastic!
Here’s my Ronette & her Ron D’ohs story:
My best friend through high school, let’s call her Ronette. We were really good friends, but she was one of those girls who immediately dropped her girl friends the moment a boy friend was in the picture. I’ll admit that I was a late bloomer, so I didn’t have that boyfriend complication in high school. (or college, for that matter, but I digress.) Anyway, in trying to keep in touch with Ronette, I’d occasionally call her up & invite her out to lunch or to a movie or such, and she’d occasionally accept. We lived probably a half mile from each other, so she’d claim to be over in 5 or 10 minutes.
More than once she’d show up one to two HOURS later, with the boyfriend in tow, both of them with mussed hair, and out of breath. Really. And if the boyfriend-du-jour wasn’t with her, which was rare, I’d have to put up with stories of her latest escapades. OMG, have you EVER heard a teenage girl reminisce all dewy-eyed about the boyfriend’s reaction the first time he was ever fellated? Of course, I couldn’t really carry on an intelligent conversation because I barely knew what she was talking about. But I think she played on that. Let’s see if she can shock the cr@p out of Kath and watch her befuddled expression.
Anyway, Ronette seemed to ALWAYS be short of money. We even worked together at times, so how she managed to always be broke, I don’t know. Of course, like so many Ron stories posted here and in the original thread, there would be no mention of her lack of cash until we’d agreed to do something together that involved needing money. Get something to eat, you’ve got to pay. Go to a movie, you’ve got to buy a ticket. Guess who ended up paying for everything? But she always seemed so mature and grown-up to my pathetically loser self that I’d put up with it. In a way, I guess that would make me a Ronduh. To a Ronette. Of course, as soon as she broke up with the boyfriend-du-jour she’d be my BFF again.
Unfortunately, I still miss her. She’s been married now for going on 20 years and I’ve seen her exactly once during that time, at my wedding reception. I think she’s afraid of me – all those stories she used to share about her sexual escapades, and now she’s married to a very religious guy and has Found God herself. I think she’s afraid I’ll spoil her facade! Oddly enough, I keep in touch with her husband on FB but she doesn’t seem to exist in his world.