I have been told that I am not a man of great patience. Now my friend told me this with of every intention of being helpful in some way. Seems odd that we think the best way to help a person is to insult them.
So tonight I am doing a little experiment in patience.
You see I know this guy who knows a guy who needs a favor. The guy who needs this favor is the suit and tie type guy who works U.S. Customs. Interestingly enough in one of my many entrepreneurial enterprises I offer services in the area of transportation facilitation by facilitating the movement of goods across imaginarily lines drawn on a map by governmental agencies, so I felt that this fellow and I might be of service to one another. It seems his only daughter just started college and got involved with the wrong sort of fellow. She only realized too late what a complete and utter piece of shit he was when one night at his apartment he invited two of his buddies in to take a turn as well. She only managed to get out of there before things went to hell because the other potential rapists were so stoned they were falling all over themselves trying to get their pants down. Since that time the lover boy cruises by the family house with his two buddies. One afternoon in the grocers, the punk came up behind the mother and rubbed up on her and told her how wild her daughter was in the sack, and asked if she would like to have a go. He and his buddies took a big crap one night on the family’s front porch – shit like that. So my guy goes to the police but they can’t do anything – not without proof. I told him that I would be happy to do him a favor. After all, I don’t require proof.
So now you ask – what does all that have to do with my lack of patience? Well I devised a little demonstration of just how excellent my patience is. I found Romeo and introduced him to the beauty of a choke hold. So now I am sitting here, on a Friday night mind you, waiting patiently for it to get a little later, while Romeo sits tied up there in a metal chair. I am sitting here watching an NCIS rerun while I type this for you, being just as patient as I can be. I am merely passing the time sitting here patiently while Romeo craps his pants (I actually think he did – it’s a little stank in here). Now I could rush things and just beat the crap out of this guy, kneecap him, or something as crude as that. No, I am going to be patient. I figure by about eleven I will have proven that I can be patient. Around eleven tonight I’ll take Romeo for a little ride. He likes to play games with people, so I’m going to introduce him to some people that also like to play games. You see the Boston area has a local club of spirited young motorcycle enthusiasts that have organized themselves into a, well sort of a little gang. These young rapscallions call themselves the “Outlaws”, and I just happen to know where their “Clubhouse” is. So I’ll just plant Lover Boy behind the wheel of his puke green Japanese shit mobile, point it towards the line of cycles parked out front, and allow nature to take its course.
Tell me I’m not patient!
