The Ron Thread

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
241

Today’s Contribution: A Tale of Two Kitties

As you may recall, we last left my sister living on the most dangerous street in the county with no phone and no car, walking to work amidst johns and prostitutes, while Ron was living high on the hog in the city, staying with his ex-wife and trying sleeping with her, but it was all fine because he was just doing it to get her pregnant.

This finally convinced my sister that maybe Ron wasn’t the man of her dreams after all, and she broke things off to the jubilation of her friends and family.

So she moved back closer to us in a one-room studio in a small suburb of the city with lots of jobs close by and the support of her friends and family.

Things seemed to be going really well for sis and I was hoping her Ron days were over. When suddenly a cat appeared. A surprisingly familiar cat.

“Wow - is that Ron’s cat?”

“No, it’s not” replied my sister.

“My bad,” I said. “I guess it’s because it’s a white persian just like Ron’s was.”

“I know,” she said. “But this is a different cat entirely.”

“What’s its name?”

“Chrissy.”

“Wasn’t that the name of Ron’s cat?” I asked. I remembered because he had explained to me that he had named the cat after one of his favorite porn stars.

“Yes, but it’s not the same cat!”

I backed off at that point - and went back to helping my sister clean her apartment. I was putting some things away in a drawer, and right on top was a copy of a very recent veterinary certificate of good health for a cat named Chrissy - owned by Ron . . .

I didn’t say anything for a while. When we finally sat down and cracked open a few sodas, Chrissy jumped up and started scratching the couch.

“Y’know, I just can’t get over how much this cat looks like Ron. I mean . . . it has the same name, it’s a white persian, same eye color, everything . . . what’s the chances of that?”

My sister looked me dead in the eye. “It’s not the same cat. I promise.”

I shrugged. “I think you should know that I saw the paperwork when you had me put the towels in the drawer.”

My sister popped up and looked in the drawer, then slammed it and glared at me.

“If you knew it was Ron’s cat, WHY DID YOU MAKE ME LIE TO YOU?”

I still scratch my head over that one.

(I realize this is more Ron-duh oriented, but it’s chronological)

242

Wow.

You know, there’s a bit of amusing coincidence in that cat’s name, because all I can picture reading that is Suzanne Somers in her role on Three’s Company.

243

I think this porn star was a Suzanne Somers type, too. I just can’t remember her last name or any of her movies . . .

244

Ron looks like a white Persian cat? :confused:

:smiley:

245

I think it’s charming that sis believed Ron was large. At least that tells you something about her (lack of) first-hand knowledge of what’s large or not.

More Ron stories - these are great!

246

Brilliant stories! Absolutely brilliant!

247

But you didn’t answer the question; Why did you make her lie to you? Maybe Ron isn’t the only one who has trouble taking responsibility for their actions? :wink:

248

I know 2 Rons–one is a nice guy; the other has the moustache and is kind of a jerk, but not like the Rons here. Then again, his wife would qualify for Ron-duh*, so maybe he just never did any of his Ron-ness around me?

I want more Rons (and morons-heh).

*she used to forward stuff to me via email–stuff like “tampon companies are filling tampons with fiberglass to increase bleeding so we need to buy more.” Stuff like that…

249

I used to know this guy Randy. Sorta like Ron, it at least begins with R. Randy was a classic moocher.

Met him initially because my best friend graduated from high school early and went to work at a cabinet factory to earn money for the programming school we had both signed up for starting the next fall.

At that time, Randy had been with Betsy for seven years. Then she got pregnant (accident). Randy was skittish because he really didn’t want to get married. My friend and I joked that he was already married - common law - because they’d been living together for seven years. Randy bailed on her the next week. :rolleyes:

I’d learned my own bitter lessons over the years to avoid giving this man a dime, allowing him to drive (he’d stop, pump gas into his car then demand “gas money” because he was flat broke - telling us only AFTER having pumped the gas), or allowing him to accompany us anywhere that might cost money. We’d go to a fast food place, he’d order food, then when it came, turn to us and again ask for money because he didn’t have any. He NEVER asked or told us in advance, even when we flat out demanded to know before we allowed him to come along.

Oh, and he’d never pay anything back. Ever. If you were stupid enough to throw money down that black hole, consider it gone.

Years later, he was still friends with my friend Bruce, who had his own mental problems (and is no longer a friend because of them). But Bruce told me this tale;

He and Randy drive down to Burger King. Bruce has stupidly not asked Randy if he has any money. Randy orders two big macs, fries, a drink and something else, then just expects Bruce to pay for it. They’re driving the TWO MILES back to Bruce’s house. Randy opens the first Big Mac, takes a bite and chucks it out the window. He takes a bite out of the second one and chucks it out the window. At this, Bruce is pissed, because he paid for those burgers. Randy whines about how they were cold. Bruce says “You know, we have a microwave…”

Randy asks if they can go back and buy two more. :eek:

250

Wild applause!

Expect more chanting soon!

251

I now have a term in my vocabulary I call “(ex-wife’s name) Logic”. It refers to bass-akward financial logic that makes no sense on any planet.

She’d maxed out her credit card to the tune of over $6,000 dollars right before we got married, but lied to me and told me that she only owed a little over $1,000.

Two months later, we’re getting calls from Bill Collectors. She’s begging me not to answer the calls, saying it’s all a mistake, she’s already fixed it, they won’t stop harassing her. I was suspicious, but as for the moment they were only calling when she was there, I couldn’t answer without causing a big scene.

Finally one day, they call when she’s out and I answer. I learned for the very first time that she’d maxed out her card, the amount, and that she’d been failing to make her minimum payments. When she got home, I confronted her about it.

Her story: They were being mean to her by refusing to allow her to keep using her credit card. So she was punishing them by refusing to make the minimum payments. She absolutely insisted that this was what she was doing and that she was not going to resume full payments until they allowed her to use the card again. :eek: :smack:

No matter how much I explained that they were a big corporation, NO ONE was looking at her statement but a computer, and that she wasn’t punishing anyone but herself (and me!) by utterly destroying her own credit rating, that was her story and she was sticking to it.

The fact that she was paying less than the interest on the balance and therefore would NEVER get below the limit also made no impact.

Fortunately, I closed the sale of my house less than a month later, made a gob of money and was able to pay off her nearly $40,000 in debts. When what I was told before we married was in the vicinity of $6k.

Two days later she checked into a mental hospital for three days after a fraudulent suicide attempt (no one takes four pills to commit suicide - they take the entire fucking bottle - especially when half the bottle of that particular drug would still be in the ‘therapeutic’ range for some of the stuff it was used to treat), and blamed ME from one end of the Earth to the other for “being mean” to her about the whole financial thing.

Oh, it gets worse from there. But the whole “punishing the credit card company” story is my prime example of “(ex-wife’s name) Logic”.

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My brother and his bf shared an apartment with a girl who worked on that kind of logic. She would happily announce that she would handle certain bills, collect money to pay them, but then either forget to pay them or absentmindedly spend the money on something else entirely. I am pretty sure she was not consciously trying to steal money from her roommates. She was just financially stupid. She eventually got herself in so much debt that she had to move back in with her parents, which was perfectly fine with everyone else in the apartment.

253

I think I dated a Ted-Ron once (I was in HS). He asked me to marry him on our first date (he was also in HS). We were supposed to get married and move to Colorado (?). He also had a mustache. Hmmm… He used to try to get me (I believe this is the term he used) to put out by telling me how hot and ready his former girlfriend was–she had spoiled him for other women. Somehow this was supposed to make me want to compete with his ex for Ted-Ron’s hall of fame of sex in the back seat of his Ford LTD station wagon, listening to Molly Hatchet and smoking Marlboro’s together.

I plead mercy for dating him for 2 months. I was 16 and stupid (but not Ron-duh stupid. I never did put out).

I will say this for Ted-Ron: he was an excellent mechanic, and except for his odd notions re teen age girls and sex, he was a fairly nice guy. Ok, maybe he was a complete putz…

254

I have an acquantance who’s not exactly a Ron, but he’s a moocher extrordinaire.

I was on vacation and doing a bunch of “touristy” things at home in NYC that week and I decided to treat him and another good friend (E) to dinner. E, being a good guy chose Red Lobster so the total wouldn’t break the bank.

Our server was nice, very efficient and was working hard so E decided to leave a really good tip. I added a couple of bucks since the service was so good.

We were walking out and I turned back to see the moocher actually taking the tip off the table and putting it in his pocket. His excuse: he needed money to go skating with us later that night.

We made him put the tip in the server’s hand and embarrassed the moocher by telling the server what he had done.

255

OMG - I used to have the female equivalent for a roommate!

She was so obnoxious on one vacation that we tipped the waittress extra as a kind of hazard pay. As I was up front paying for my meal (and hers because she came on the vacation “broke”) she spied the glass covered plate of brownies and decided she needed one. So she went back to the table to take some of the tip because “we had tipped too much.” Right in front of our waittress.

I slapped the money out of her hand, dragged her out of the restaurant and was so furious and embarassed I was shaking. I then gave my roommate $40 dollars and told her that if she needed anything to spend that and if she ran out, tough crapperoonies - she’d starve and none of us would care.

To this day, I’m sure she doesn’t understand what the big deal was.

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About as useful - he shed, laid around, scratched himself and the furniture . . .and expected my sister to take care of him.

Yup, Ron was a cat.

And he’s too sexy for his cat, poor pussy, poor pussy cat . . . .

257

Marlboros, no apostrophe. (I may be in the running for Ron-duh. :smack: )

258

That is truly priceless my dear.

Art truly imitates life; there was an episode of Seinfeld where George Costanza tries to convince his fiance’s parents he had a place in the Hamptons. They called his bluff, but he insisted on driving them the length of Long Island to prove he actually did, all the while knowing that they knew he didn’t , and got pissed that they “made” him keep up the charade.

**Jerry:**A house in the Hamptons?

**George:**Yeah, I figured since I was lying about my income for a couple of
years, I could afford a fake house in the Hamptons.

259

The latest Ron-Duh story (“why did you make me lie to you”) made me chuckle, but then I stopped and felt overwhelmingly sad.

Anyone ever heard the after-the-purchase explanation of, “I just bought a thousand-dollar thing, but it was on sale, down from fifteen hundred, so actually I saved us five hundred dollars, we’re five hundred dollars ahead really!”

Yeah, me too. :frowning:

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I honestly believe that any adult who un-ironically accuses someone of “being mean to” thereby calls for themselves to be placed under intense maturity scrutiny.