Well, since I am still stuck on: Bacon, and Cheese, and Chocolate, and Vodka, and Facial Hair, and Pajama Jeans, I decided to re-post one of my very favorite stories. And yes, it’s about my father.
These events are 100% true and originally occurred on Monday October 2nd, 2006. Some of you may be familiar with this post as I may have referred to it once or twice.
I talk about my family a lot. Mostly because I love them and because they are all sofa king crazy, you can’t help but laugh. My father, whom I adore is extremely smart. And he is a well intentioned, passionate, handsome, life saving, family providing, over reacting, hyper active, attention deficient having, genius.
The following is a story about my father. 75 cents. A gas station. And, an air pump.
ENJOY!
The phone in my office rings, when I answer to find an irate individual shouting on the other end. I know the voice belongs to my father – but I can’t understand what he’s saying because he’s screaming.
Wait.
Let me back up.
Earlier that morning, my father had gone to the gas station to fill his slow leaking tire with air. He pulled up and parked right in front of the air pump. He took the stopper off the tire, he put 75cents into the machine, and then he tried pumping the tire full of air. Except that no air came out. My father checked the machine, and checked it again, but nothing was working. It was clear the machine was broken.
Just like anyone else in the world would do, my father went over to the attendant and explained the situation. “Hey, excuse me, but I just put 75cents into your air pump, and nothing happened.”
The gas attendant, who barley spoke any English, told my father to wait a few seconds and he would be right with him. So, my father waited. And waited. And waited. And waited – for what seemed like a lifetime. Ten minuets later, also known as just enough time to push the ‘patience envelope’ with my father, things started to get heated.
After serving every other customer, the gas attendant finally followed my semi-upset, borderline-angry father over to the machine. The gas attendant looked at the pump before putting his own 75cents into the machine and tried again. Still nothing.
“It broke” said the attendant.
“Yes, I know that” said my father. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing” replied the attendant.
My father, now noticeably angry, yelled, “Well, you owe me 75 cents!!”
“No, machine broke”. The attendant argued.
“I know it’s broken, but it’s YOUR machine. There is no sign indicating it’s broken!! You owe me 75 cents!!!”
“No. Machine broke. No 75 cents for you. I gave 75 cents too.”
At this point my father’s blood pressure was rising, his jaw was clenched tightly, and he lost the ability to reason rationally.
“That doesn’t matter! I don’t care if you lost your 75 cents. You can, and you will, get your money back. But I want MY 75 cents, and, I want it now!!”
SIDE BAR: In the middle of his rant, my father noticed a couple. They had been there all along, only when they first arrived they had their Mercedes windows rolled down, and they were casually relaxing, dressed in weekend get away clothes. However after witnessing his full-blown-nuclear-outburst? They had rolled up their windows and locked their doors, and now they sat perfectly still – looking straight ahead with their hands folded in their laps.
“You a crazy. You a crazy man!” The attendant shook his head as he walked away.
“No, I’m not. You’re WRONG!”
My father stormed off and got back into his car. He peeled out of the parking lot with the half flat tire. And that’s precisely when he called me to tell me what had happened. The man was livid beyond help. I know that tone of voice all too well. And I also know when he is at that point, there is nothing you can say or do, but shut up and listen to him.
Here are the series of revenge ideas my father contemplated:
“You know what I am going to do? I am going to call the cops! I was robbed. I am calling the cops and saying I’m telling them I was just robbed. They robbed me of my 75cents, this is f*cking bullsh*t!!!” He hangs up.
5 seconds later my phone rings again.
“No, you know what I am going to do, I am going to make a huge poster. I am going to make a really big sign that says THIS GAS STATION RIPS PEOPLE OFF, and I am gong to stand in front of that gas station with a bull horn!” He hangs up again.
Another 5 seconds later phone rings again.
“No, I am going to take a crow bar, and smash the f**king thing. I’ll just break it open and take MY 75CENTS!!” He hangs up.
My father was so enraged, he couldn’t let this go. In fact, he circled back towards the gas station to confront the attendant again. Fortunately, he stopped in his tracks, after he convinced himself that MAYBE, he was over reacting – a little.
By the time my father arrived at our office, I had informed the other employees what has occurred and how they would be wise to avoid one Mr. Colonna at all costs.
After hearing the story, most people in our office said the same thing, “Jeez; I’ll give him the 75 cents.”
But it was not about the 75 cents anymore.
It was the point.
For the entire work day my father argued with anyone that would indulge him. “Would you let someone get away with it if it was 2 dollars?” My father continued to defend his position, carrying on about how if he was in Grocery Store and put 75cents in a soda machine but didn’t get the soda, the manager would refund his money, so therefore, the same rules, MUST apply in this gas station!
Right?
My dad spent the next 24 hours of his life trying to derive ‘The Perfect Plan’. He stewed, and stewed, and stewed, and he plotted his sweet revenge.
The very next day, my father went back to the very same gas station.
This time he pulled up to the gas pump. Not the air machine.
He didn’t get the same attendant, but that didn’t matter to him in the least.
Instead of yelling, or causing yet another scene? He calmly asked for 5 dollars of gas.
When the attendant came to collect money?
My father handed him $4.25.
And a note.
“YOUR OTHER 75 CENTS IS IN THE AIR MACHINE.”
And then he drove off.
Yep.
That’s My Daddy.
Oh, and if you ever need air in your tires, do NOT go to this gas station:
Have you ever been ripped-off like that?
And if so, what would YOU have done to seek revenge?
Or would you be able to just let it go?
Omg!!!!! Another great one!!!!!! Ron is just a gaggle of funny stories..a bottomless pit of material!!!!! The great part is, I can picture him and actually hear him!!!!!I hurt from laughing sooo hard!!!!! And the way you tell these stories..it’s like watching a video!!! xoxoxoxox
OUT-FREAKIN-STANDING!
Aunt Lynda,
Ron is classic comedy! I love following him around the house because you never know WHAT he’s gunna do/say next!
Brilliant, indeed.
Hahahahahahaaaaaaa…I love dad.he is a mini series all on his own..pure genius..I almost hoping the air machine at my gas station is broken so I can do the same thing..:)
Oh Meleah, this is hysterical. Your poor dad! If it were $75.00, I would have done the same thing. But for 75 cents, uh, probably not.
I swear a Reality TV crew REALLY needs to follow him around!
It wasn’t about the 75 cents anymore!
He was all about Justice!
Ha! I’ve been there – done that, although not with an air machine. It’s not the money that’s important – hey, I’ve shrugged off a $3.00 mistake – but it’s the principle of it. And, being part Irish, I can get ticked-off real easy. But the venting helps – that and a bit of alcohol.
😉
Your dad? Awesome.
I love the way he calls you, hangs up, calls back…
When I grow up, I want to be like that. 🙂
Haha… I remember this story. Very funny stuff. He’s right, though. The attendant just should’ve given him his 25 cents back, and all would’ve been well. It happens all the time.
Have I ever been ripped off like that? Sure. I can’t say I’ve ever gone as far as your dad, though. I’m generally pretty laid-back, and I hate confrontation. If there’s a fairly insignificant amount of money involved, I’ll generally just let it go.
My father is a full-blown Italian, and you do NOT want to piss him off!
I loved that note.
I really wish I had been IN THE CAR to see the attendant’s face.
Im like you Mike. I do NOT like confrontation. Not even a little!
My father in law is the same way. He’s not clever enough to do what your dad did. But he always says, first I’m calling my attorney then I’m calling King 5 news! This is elderly abuse and I’m not going to take it!
Priceless. Too bad the lesson on the principle goes in one ear and out the other with the gas station owners/managers.
Yay! Im glad to know my father’s not the only one!
So true, Rog.
I love this story.
Thanks, Nik. I do too.
🙂
I love stories of your daddy. I’m sure I’ve read this before, but it was worth a second visit!
Bwhahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
Bwhahahahahhahahahahahahahahaa!
OMG….this story had me laughing so hard, I passed gas!
You’re father is a RIOT!
““No, I am going to take a crow bar, and smash the f**king thing. I’ll just break it open and take MY 75CENTS!!”
Bwhahahahaahhahahahahaha!
Listen, I had no idea that your fathers name is Ron, but it figures considering that I would have reacted the SAME WAY!
He was absolutely right….it was not about the 75 cents. It was the POINT! And I would have felt the same. So you GO, Ron!
Your father is beyond priceless!
Faaaaaaabulous post, girl! LOVED it!
X
I love it! Well, if it were my dad, I’d be all ‘calm down, it’s not worth it.’ But since it’s your dad, I’m laughing.
I’ve never been ripped off like that and gotten revenge, but once in a Walgreens, the manager accused me of shoplifting some hair mousse so I started to strip right there in the aisle to prove to him that I didn’t have it. MathMan was mortified, but I got an apology from Walgreens.
Your dad’s got a classy sense of humor. Revenge is a dish best served cold.
It’s best not to cross him in matters of money or honor.
And I remember this one when you first posted it and it is still as funny as the first time around.
Hahahaha … what a cool dad you have 😀 I like the man! How come you guys have to pay for air? Over here, it’s like offered for free. You dad would love the air pumps here … LOL!
Thank, Terri. It’s been a while since I originally posted it –
but I think YOU are one of my ‘original’ blog friends!
xoxoxoxo
YAY! I love making you laugh like that Ronnie!
You’re my HERO, Lisa! HA!!!!
Oh Agg, you’re the best.
Have you really been reading my blog since 2006?
I LOVE that I’ve been friends with so many of you – for all these years!
That makes my heart all warm.
Some places have air pumps for free.
Unfortunately, my dad picked the wrong gas station at the wrong time!
His final solution was beyond AWESOME! Although I did love his first few ideas. I can get behind his rage completely and totally. If we have no consistent rules who have no society.
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I was VERY impressed with my father’s Final Decision too!
Smart man. He let himself calm down and came up with the perfect solution. I’m not sure what I would have done. Probably nothing.
Much like you, I usually walk away – defeated.
🙂
Well, I’m with your dad on this one. It isn’t the money, it’s the principle, and I would have also been livid! How dare he refuse to give him his money back?
I love the revenge 🙂
Thanks, Babs! My dad is THRILLED reading all of these comments.
Good God! THAT’S where you got your wit! A full blown Italian! I’m full blown French! With BOTH talk with our HANDS! How ELSE can you tell a story without all the nuances of hand and facial gestures! (You know? Talking with your hands takes on a whole new meaning when you are using those hands on a keyboard to relate an experience!) Email me when you get a chance (I have a blog question) and remind me to tell you about my cousins. My Father was full blooded Canadian French and his brother married a full blooded, right off the boat, Italian! Have I mentioned they are my FAVORITE relations? (My best friend is Italian also (I would sell my kids for a helping of her sauce!) so… and I’m just guessing here… Dinner at your home MUST be a very long (and loud) event!) 😉
Very funny Mel – yep, I guess we’ve all been ripped off but the only sort of revenge story I can remember was when a telemarketer hung up on me.
Oh Lemon, dinner is SO loud, and everyone talks with their hands!
We are forever knocking over glasses! HA!
Im sending you an email right now!
🙂
Loz, now I have to know WHY the telemarketer hung up on you!
Ur dad is too funny in this story. funny thing tho’, I probably would have reacted the same way! I hope I get to meet all your family one day. Love the stories…makes me miss my dad.
Laughing about it? I simply have to say that your father is one of the smartest men I knew; that was a brilliant idea.
Laughing about it? I simply have to say that your father is one of the smartest men I knew; that was a brilliant idea.
You’re always invited to come visit us!
Thanks, BK! He sure is!
And I will FOREVER laugh about this story!
That is SO funny! I don’t forget being treated unfairly and can be relentless when need be. BUT, I REALLY easy to get along with for the most part 🙂 I think your dad and I would get along really well! Have a great week.
I probably would’ve let it go, but I’m glad your dad didn’t, this made for a hilarious story! A genius work of revenge by your funny father!
Thanks! I hope you have a great week too!
YAY! Marty!
I already miss the crawl!
Im looking forward to whatever new blog you’ll have in February!