Originally Posted by Double Down
Ok. So a couple years ago, I flew out to Denver for my cousin's wedding. I met up with my dad and stepmom Betty after arriving at the Denver airport because we were all staying together. On the way to the hotel, we stopped at a Walgreens and Dad comes out a minute later with this huge jug of water. I'm talking freakin' large. Like you'd need to check it through large. Don't ask me to specify the size because I don't know and it'll create a pointless, nitty derail. Suffice it to say that it would be one of my 3 things to have on a desert island. He gets in the car with it.
"You're not going to believe it!"
Before he says another word, I ask him, "How much?"
He pauses for dramatic effect, smirking with delight at his soon to be revealed secret. "A buck! Can you believe it? For this much water!!?!"
Betty and I had a good chuckle. My dad was seriously loving on this jug. One of the best purchases he'd ever made. When he put it in the back seat next to me, I'm surprised he didn't throw the seat belt on it. Or put it in a child seat for that matter.
"Great find, dad." I tell him. And it was. We had plenty of water for the weekend in our hotel room.
Did the whole wedding thing, and then Sunday rolled around and it was time to go home. And that's when the fun started.
So we get to the airport to the car rental return. My dad asks me to pop open the trunk and get out the luggage while he takes care of the paperwork inside, and lo and behold, staring up at me, it's the jug. In all its glory. And still half full! Yes, as valiant of an attempt as the three of us had made to go to town on this bad boy all weekend, we'd only knocked out 50% of the behemoth. Well, ain't nothing getting wasted. Not on Papa DD's watch.
When he gets back from the counter, I ask him about it. I say to him, "Dad, I'm thinking they might not let you take that water. I'm pretty sure it's more than three ounces of liquid." (no ****)
And he kept say, "Nah, nah, it'll be ok. It's fine."
We get on the shuttle, and here my dad is with a huge suitcase, backpack, fanny pack, and his precious half empty jug (of course, he sees it as half full). We get to the entrance of the airport, and I watch my dad, of whom I was the lucky trillion to one sperm of his to witness this scene, trying to walk and balance himself lugging his big ass suitcase in the left hand, and hefting his new best buddy, Mr. Water Jug, in the right. Fanny pack in front, back pack on the back, whatever life could possibly throw at this man at this moment, he was mother ****ing ready for it.
He refuses to check anything (obviously not a guy who's going to pay to check bags through.) so we head to security. I keep saying to him, "Dad, I really don't think they'll let you on with that." and he kept answering, "It's fine. It's all good."
Oh, I forgot to mention that it was Easter Sunday. Not joking. So the line is stupid long to get through security, and we were already cutting it closer than what was comfortable. Our flight was in about an hour. So we wait in this line for about 40 minutes, so we're starting to panic just a little about making our flight. And just a few feet ahead, is the TSA checking id's and tickets, and there's of course that garbage can there to throw out all bottles of water.
So we get up there, and immediately the agent says, "I'm sorry sir, but you can't bring that through." My dad looks at him blankly. "Are you sure?" "Yeah, I'm sure, sir. You're only allowed 3 ounces of liquid." My dad says, "It'll be fine, it's just water, and I'll drink it on the flight." I tell my dad, "Hey, we need to get on our flight. OK? Let's just go."
I am going to try my best to not exaggerate at all with what I say happened next, because the event that followed in its truth is funnier than anything I could make up. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, with a flight home in T minus 20 and a line of people a mile long behind him, this hero to the world puts down his suit case, pops the top off and starts chugging the **** out of this jug like it's the last thing he's doing before the asteroid hits.
People, I have seen few things in my life that were done with such pizazz. Such gusto. His whole body was involved in it. He had a super wide stance, and his left arm was sticking straight out as if to give himself some leverage. It's like his body realized it was being called upon to pull off a legendary feat. But my dad would be damned to let fifty cents worth of water go to waste. Not today. Not on his watch. That wasn't part of the deal, kemosabe.
People are starting to grumble in line behind us. One guy says, "we need to catch our flight." The agent says, "Sir, we need to keep the line moving." My dad acknowledges him, and therefore takes off his fanny pack as if to give himself that much more gut expansion potential, and resumes chugging. I also think it was a gesture of acknowledgment to the TSA that he was doing his best to hurry up. My stepmom says, "Bob, we really need to go!" She is thoroughly embarrassed. He is totally exasperated and choking on the water, but still drinking. He takes it away to catch his breath and stop choking and asks me all at once, "gmfhr...hunhnnk..,hey, you want some?" I could tell that this man desperately needed my help finishing off this wretched jug, but I was just totally shut off to what was happening. Better that than to actually cope with the impossible level of embarrassment that my stepmom was currently experiencing.
"No, dad. I'm good. Let's go already. Please."
He nodded, and resumed chugging as if my plea to him wasn't to just throw away the jug, but to finish it off faster. He is really pushing to complete the task at hand, choking and snorting water, making ungodly noises. I say to him, "Dad, you're going to hurt yourself." He takes the jug away from his lips to catch another quick breath, and utters simply, "It's good for me!" before resuming the chug.
The whole thing probably only lasted 30 seconds, but if you can really imagine yourself in this situation, you will realize that 30 seconds easily felt like an eternity. At the end of the day, it was unfortunately not to be. There were maybe a good 20 ounces of water left that just would not go down. So we said goodbye to the jug and left it with the TSA agent (it was way too big to fit in the trash can) and made our flight. He was the most hydrated man I'd ever seen.
Of all of the stinginess (or whatever you want to call it) stories I have about my father, none illustrate more clearly to me his issue with things being wasted. I'm sure it absolutely ate him up inside that he couldn't finish off this jug, for a few reasons. One was the waste of the water (and therefore his money). Two was that, tied in with #1, what had made the jug such a sweet deal in the first place was that he'd gotten it for a buck, and so by not drinking the whole thing, it's like he didn't get to take full advantage of the offer. Three was the jug itself, which afterwards could've been used to store any number of future items (loose change, business cards, promotional pens from the CES). It was essentially like had he finished the water, he would've won a brand new piece of luggage. Four was the epic sense of accomplishment he would've felt had he finished it off. It would have been a story for the ages (it is for me, obviously) but one for him to regale to others at parties and other events, where he could proudly claim the day that he was put to the test to see just how much he loves a good deal and emerged victorious from his Walkabout of Value a man. A deal loving, water chugging man.
God, I ****ing love that guy.
