"My Name's Friday. I Carry a Badge."

"She drifted into the room like 98 pounds of warm smoke. Her voice was hot and sticky—like a furnace full of marshmallows."
I spent a few weeks binge watching THE MENTALIST. One of the characters reminded me of Sgt. Joe Friday of DRAGNET. The character was short on words, but managed to get his point across. It is an archetype that might be referred to as the strong, silent type or the man of few words. He makes assessments of the situations, has logical plans, is able to assign tasks to others so that the project may be carefully executed, and--like the Royal Canadian Mounted Police--he always gets his man.
There are times when I feel like Sgt. Friday. I spend way too much time listening to people babble gibberish to the simplest of questions that I ask. Most of the questions for intake should either elicit a Y/N, or could be answered on a scale of three or four choices; all of the time, most of the time, some of the time, or not at all. Instead, I get responses that begin with the dreaded introduction of "Well! ... Let me tell you..." The rest is the vision of the speaker's jowls flapping while I wait for an opportune moment to silence him/__/them/her and say something like, "Please choose from the answers I have provided," or "Let's move on, shall we?" Even the question of, "Are you in pain right now?" should not require modification. "I wouldn't call it pain, exactly. It's more like discomfort." (The thought that goes through my mind at that moment is akin to 'You're not ignorant, per se, but more akin to a combination of stupid and annoying!').
I have often wondered what sort of mate would be attracted to Friday. I've also wondered how someone ends up with a last name that's a day of the week. The only other time I have heard of Friday as a name was on Friday Harbor, San Juan Island, Washington State.