When I got deployed to Rhode Island, I’ll be honest — I was pumped. I haven’t been anywhere in a while, and it felt good to hit the road again. But before I left, everyone had the same warning: “Rhode Island’s tough on adjusters. Real combative up there. Good luck.” So naturally, I geared up for battle. I packed like I was going into a war zone — laptop, flashlight, extra pens, emotional armor. Four days in, and guess what? Everyone’s been perfectly nice. No yelling. No attitude. No slammed doors. I’m starting to think the only thing Rhode Island’s fighting is the concept of urgency. The only guy who was mad at me was because  I showed up at a quarter to 9. They’re on island time here — but not the tropical kind. No palm trees, no tiki torches, no fruity drinks. Just cold, gray mist, and Dunkin’ Donuts as far as the eye can see. The average body shop “opens” around 8 a.m. That’s what the sign says, anyway. But if you show up at 8, you’ll just see a dark garage and mayb...