I'm NOT Sorry
Business was very slow at work yesterday. Most of us were going around looking for things to do. "Give us something to do! We need more work!"
Do you know how agonizingly prolonged time is when you're just standing around looking at the clock?
I was waiting on this old geezer and his wife. Everything was going OK, they seemed to be enjoying their meals and I tried not to bug them too much.
(Too much service is almost as bad as not enough. Especially when the guest can't even take a bite of their food without a server hovering over them asking, "Is everything OK? Can I get you anything?")
Part of my job is to clear dishes that are no longer being used. Nobody likes a huge stack of dirty plates on their table, right?
There was a plate full of bones with a paper napkin wadded up on top sitting on the edge of their table. So I go over to grab it and put it on my tray to take it back to the dishroom, and as I reach over to take it, the old fart slaps my hand away!
"Dem bones is fer my dawg!" he growls at me.
The worst part of it was not being able to do anything about it.
Slugging him would lose me my job. Saying something that could possibly be construed as being disparaging would cost me my tip.
So, I took the only road that was open to me. I apologized and dashed away.
Having to apologize when you really aren't remorseful just sucks.