First things first, one could easily argue that the definition of an asshole is someone who does not understand limits; or more accurately, chooses not to understand or respect those limits. Therefore, the limit of an asshole does not exist.
With that aside, I have learned that my asshole limit is five days. Day one with an asshole is shocking, but it is still a bit of an absurdity and you tell yourself that this cannot be how they are all the time. Day two you are beginning to accept that there is a definite part of them that must be permanently pertaining to that of an asshole (even you aren’t believing your excuses for them anymore). Day three it is finally dawning on you that yes, indeed, this person is an asshole. In truth you have never used this word to describe anyone before in your life, but you have always been a believer in using appropriate vocabulary, and realize that there is nothing more fitting. Day four you stop smiling and nodding politely to their obscene, crude, and racist jokes. If your wits are about you, you will feign a migraine and seek the solace of a quiet room where you can enjoy the more intellectual company of your laptop.
Day five is my limit to an asshole.
There is no smiling or nodding or response of any kind to their irrational and immature antics, and every word that passes through their lips is just another crank in my tightly wound emotions. It is all I can do to restrain my natural instinct of pushing them in front of a moving bus, and gleefully drawing the chalk lines myself around their unresponsive body.
Every day after the fifth day is pure, unadulterated torture.
If you have a way to escape an asshole, do it on the first day. If by some chance you cannot escape an asshole, may strength and peace be with you. While writing this I am on day six, and I have three more days of this inescapable torment of stupidity.