Strangers tend to compliment my hair color or how beautiful my children are. Not typing another blog on these two topics right now.
Family members love to tell me what a good cook I am or how smart I am. I love cooking and my wife doesn't. Being good at it is just a bonus. I like to think I'm smart. I don't think I can type a blog post about it without making myself sound like an unintelligent, self-indulgent prick.
The wife and past girl friends all have a very nice compliment that is probably best kept off the blog given that my Mother stops by every once and a while. I also think I might start alienating folks more than normal given one phallic reference already this week, this topic might just be crossing a line.
Coworkers tend to tell me I'm so patient. This one is humorous to anyone who really knows me. So sure, let's roll with it. It's safer and less douchey than the other options.
My particular job just requires a level of patience that must seem extreme to outsiders. In fact now that I think about it, I had one of those folks I have to be patient with witness me in a not so patient moment yesterday. I was arguing with a retarded customer on the phone in my car out front of his store. He told me he and his employee were like "Wow, Dorn looks angry. That's gotta be bad." It wasn't really, I guess I just wasn't conscious of my facial expressions "in the privacy" of my own car.
Funny thing is, I don't realize I'm different with my direct reports. I'm not even sure what is different. I have a handful who've seen me blow up for certain. My buddy, who has me help his stores every once in a while, is the first person who came to mind when I began this topic. He always thanks me for not being like our other coworkers when I'm explaining things to his folks. He's referring to them talking over the contractors heads or just rushing them through things. Or more typically, and much worse, they just tell them to step aside and do it for them. I'll actually take the time to explain the why and show them how.
What's funny to me is my complete lack of patience with my wife or kids. Does this mean I care less about them than the people who run my stores?
Even stranger though was growing up with a mentally handicapped sister supposedly gave me patience that people acknowledged. I don't recall being patient with her at all.
I guess it's all about perception. If people couldn't deal with something and they witness someone else doing so, they assume there is something special going on. In reality, I think it's more along the lines of the old adage that "you never know what your capable of until you try." Or is it that you're forced to? Either way...