Patience is actually more of a curse

The more patient you are with a person, the more they take advantage of you.  So while it may also be a virtue, I think the people who were writing quotable quotes did not take Rod into consideration.  It's really more of a curse.
 
Rod just cannot get the name of our customer's son correct.  Every single time, he asks how Kyle is, and every single time, the customer has to remind Rod that it is Alex, and that Rod should consult his Goldmine notes.  That just slays me!  Anyway, today was no exception, Rod called up and asked how Kyle was.  Again, he was told to consult his notes. (See?  Patience just doesn't work)  Rod cleared his throat.  "AHERREUMMM!  Yes, why, see?  That's just RUDE and INCONSIDERATE of me!"  And then, this is where Rod started rambling.  I'm not sure why, maybe he actually felt badly for getting the name wrong?  Anyway, he rambled on like this:  "You know, I've been a little disTRACTed lately, what with the GUNMAN on the loose here today."  Then a pause as he waited for the appropriate inquiry that was sure to follow.  Oddly enough, Rod didn't actually talk about the 4 policemen who were shot down in cold blood, no... he took a different tact and said that a shooter was on the loose for "TWO DAYS now," even tho it was really only 1 day.  He then continued on, saying that this happened in Tacoma (it happened in Lakewood) and then mentioned the Arco refinery that's down there that processes some really "potent stuff."  He couldn't think of what was produced.  I think he's referring to the Asarco copper melting plant that produced sulfur gases, which us locals know as the "Aroma of Tacoma."  Of course, Rod didn't mention that.  No, he went on to say that he thinks those fumes (which were eliminated years ago) must be making him "tipsy," and therefore can't remember names correctly anymore.  (Should I point out that the distance between Kenmore and Tacoma is quite considerable and that nobody has ever complained of smelling the Tacoma sulfur smell up here?)  Poor, poor Rod.

Rod sighs.  Loudly.  At least every 10 minutes. 

If he doesn't sigh, he says "SHIT!"

Almost daily, I have to hear him get a virus warning.  This is because he opens any piece of email that comes to his Yahoo mailbox.  And trust me, there are some nasty things that come into a Yahoo mailbox.  I'm a female who has never solicited internet sex or anything even remotely sexual, and yet still, just this morning, I got an email telling me I could take a pill that (to paraphrase) would give me a ... ahem... a rooster, shall we say? Large enough to knock down trees.  Now, I don't have a C--, er, Rooster, and speaking from the female perspective, I wouldn't want my man to have one large enough to knock down trees, either. That just sounds downright painful.  Now, back to my story, if even I get emails about sex, you can bet Rod gets them by the bucketful.  So when I hear that virus siren go off, I know exactly what Rod is looking at and clicking on.  All together now: Ewwww!  Ick factor +8.

Despite putting a sign up on the bathroom door, Rod is still unable to wash his hands after going number 1.  Now, I realize boys get to stand when they pee, but still, I know where they have to put that hand, and from what I know of boys, they should wash that hand every time it touches something down there, even if they "didn't get any pee on it!"  All together now:  Ewwww!  Ick factor +5.

Oh no!  This just in!  Rod has taken Jennifer outside for a private talk!  Please, everyone, think good thoughts for her!  I must cease and desist my blogging until they return!  


Eye Tee Girl