Dr. Evil

Perhaps it's not quite obvious from my blog, but in person I'm a very mild-mannered, calm sort of person. I hate losing my temper. It might have something to do with being large. I can relate to Lenny in Of Mice and Men. Or maybe the bull in the china shop. I still feel a little guilty about the kid who broke his hand hitting me in the face in fifth grade.

Not long ago, my wife and I made an expensive (for us) purchase, and after taking it back to the dealer twice and being left to cool her heels, my wife insisted I go along.

We got there, talked to service guy. Wait, wait, wait. Finally guy shows up, looks, says he has to talk to his manager... Wait... Wait... Wait.

Smoke issues from ears. I stalk in looking for manager. Non-manager studiously ignores me. Walk angrily up to front desk. Ignore friendly greeting from salesman standing around. Salesman behind desk asks how I am.

"Not very damn well!"

I mention, none too politely, that we've been waiting around a long time and that I want the manager.

People scurry in impressive fashion. People suddenly show up to tend to our problem.

Feel guilty, but secretly slightly pleased.

The trouble with Dr. Evil is that it's so difficult to get him back into hibernation.

And he does produce excess stomach acid, not to mention no doubt harmful stress hormones.

Tell me again about the rabbits, George.

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