Temper Temper

You know, writing this blog has really benefited me. One of the main benefits is being able to see what I’m doing from an outsider’s POV, and then make adjustments when necessary. In order for this to happen, I have to be 100% honest about things, even that which embarrass me. I’ve been hesitant to write this particular post. I know that, once I write this, I’m gonna be embarrassed over and over again each time I read it. But if this blog is truly going to serve its purpose, to correct mistakes I make and become a better business man and person according to my standards, then I have no choice but to write about this. Ugh. Okay, here it goes. 1… 2… 3…

The day of the first closing of property Charlie was catastrophic. Dealing with all the bullshit with the job verification, Prius and Condi being completely unprofessional, and the closing being postponed until the next day… I was in an extremely foul mood when I left Marvin Wassle’s office. I wrote about this whole experience in last month’s "The Closing from Hell". After the closing didn’t happen, I did a couple rounds in the garage at the bank job. I was trying to listen to music but nothing was helping me out of my mood. As I got to the first floor, I saw a bunch of construction workers smoking around their truck. Parking garage policy is that there is no smoking, but I rarely enforce that rule because I never really cared.

(By the way, I’ve always believed that smokers were a waste of skin and should just kill themselves instead of polluting my air with their expressions of insecurity and inability to handle reality without drugs. If their so eager to die then why do it and mess my lungs up with that nasty smoke? Just die already. There’s no “LOL” or “LMAO” after that statement. I’m serious. If there are eyes other than mine that read these words and there’s no desire to quit smoking, then I ask the owner of said eyes to please go into the bathroom, lock the door, and kill him/herself. I am not kidding.)

So anyway, I decided to let these guys know that they can’t smoke in the garage. Everyone apologized and put out their cigarettes with an apology, except for one guy.

Construction Guy (sees me looking at him): Give me a minute.

Me: It’s gonna have to be now.

Construction Worker: The hell’s your problem, guy? It’s a fucking cigarette. Relax!

Me: Rules are rules. Everyone else put out their cigarettes.

Construction Worker: Good for them! You’re just gonna have to fucking wait then!

Me: Talking a lot of shit because I’m on duty. I get out at 2:30 and we’ll see if you talk the same shit.

Construction Worker (with his friends murmuring): I’m right across the street, dude. Any fucking time.

Me: Yeah okay. Let's see.

Ugh. That was painful to recount. I mean come on! I’m 31, acting like a 19-year-old junior high school student. I don’t care how bad a day I was having, there was no reason for this. I'm even reading this back right now and it looks so… stupid! That’s like saying, “Meet me after school in the playground and I’m gonna mess you up!” How infantile. The crazy thing about it was that I don’t even care if they smoke in the garage, so why was I so upset?! Ugh! I would say that the situation would have been resolved if he had just put the cigarette out, but I started it being an asshole in the first place-- pretending to care about something I cared nothing about. I didn’t really care about them smoking… I was just so frustrated about how bad the closing went that I needed to vent somehow. Two days later, I saw the same group of construction guys standing around, this time without cigarettes. I walked up to them.

Construction Worker (putting up his hand): Hey, no cigarettes man!

Me: Yeah I know. I guess everyone can have a bad day.

Construction Worker #2: Shit, I’m married. Haven’t had a good day since!

(They laugh. I smile.)

Me: Have a good day guys.

There. An apology without an apology, my specialty. That situation resolved itself, but the shame was still there. I let something get to me to the point where I did something completely out of character. It seems like every year I have some kind of potentially violent encounter, in 2011 with the Occupy bum and last year with the Butterscotch jerk. But this was the first time in a very long while that I initiated a violent confrontation, and that’s not good at all. No matter how bad things get, I can’t lose my temper unless I have to. At the age of 31, the reasons to lose one’s temper are extremely limited-- a bunch of construction workers smoking is definitely not on that short list.

A violent landlord. That’s the last thing I need to be known as. How bad would my reputation be if prospective tenants go, “Oh, Roger Dodger? Yeah I know that guy. That’s the landlord that will fuck you up if you’re late on rent!” Sounds funny, but I’m pretty sure my business would flop fairly quickly. Tenants aren't fans of living in fear of a beatdown from their landlord. So I’ll have to keep this in mind whenever dealing with a confrontation. Both fortunately and unfortunately, I’ll have this post to remind me of that. Every day. Every single day. Ugh.