I am sorry if I was rude. You were obviously bored and needed some human interaction to make the trip go by. I was selfishly trying to finish a chapter in my book. I know that when you see someone reading you probably think the book is an icebreaker for a shy person that needs a starting point for conversation. Maybe that is for some. I actually had the book so that I could read and relax on my commute home. I know I should have been more polite in response to your probing “Is that a good book?” I know you were hoping for a more detailed description when you asked “What’s it about?” I tried my best to maintain some civility in answering your questions. I hope I wasn’t too harsh or standoffish. If so, I do sincerely apologize. And I am also sorry that although my brief description was apparently riveting enough to catch your continued interest, they have not yet made a movie from it since you “Don’t read much.” Somedays I don’t read much either. I’m sorry for your disappointment. I will try harder to find literature that has been bastardized into film for when I read in a public setting. It was truly unfair to dangle such interest before you and then to block you with the horrible obstacle of having to read. I really am sorry I couldn’t have been more helpful or entertaining in your time of need. And here I’ve done it again by writing this note. I’ve thrown the obstacle of reading before your path again. Maybe this will help: IMS
To the woman at checkout three:
I am sorry that my child called you out. It was, for us, a teaching moment on etiquette and courtesy when you stepped out from behind us to the newly opened line at the cue of “I can get the next person.” You knew you were not the next person, as did I, and were I alone in the store, the encounter probably would have ended with simply a nasty glare. Unfortunately, my whole family was there, and my eleven year old daughter has some difficulty discerning the use of inside and outside voice and she also knew that you were not next in line. I hope you do not fault my wife for responding to the child’s query about when one should learn about taking cuts with the fact that it should be learned in kindergarten. You must realize that we are a homeschool family. The question was more about curiosity of when the general public might learn these things versus a rhetorical question intended guilt selfish manners. My wife’s response was that of a teacher explaining the mysteries of life to her child; it was only delivered at such volume because she is used to answering questions that one child asks so that all can hear, and thus learn. Again, a teaching moment; not intended to make you feel bad. I hope after yielding back our proper spot in line, you did not have to wait too long. Also, considering your advanced gestational state, I hope you were not rushing in to get a couple of things on your way to the hospital. Regardless, I am terribly sorry for any inconvenience or embarrassment caused by my family and best wishes for the new baby.
To the man in the silver Honda on Sunday morning:
I am sorry that I cut you off as we were coming over the
interstate. I am sure I interrupted a very interesting conversation with your
friend or whoever you were chatting with on your phone, and I am sure it must
have been of great importance and of the highest urgency or you would not have
been ignoring my blinker for the five blocks that it was on while you hugged so
tightly to my right rear quarter panel I thought that perhaps we might
have been lovers in another life; that is, I might have thought
so if I believed in past lives. I attempted to slow and let you pass and
you slowed with me; I attempted to accelerate so as to change lanes at a safe
distance, and you accelerated with me. You followed my lead through every step
of the dance with ease, all the while carrying a conversation with
someone else and ignoring my persistent indication that I wanted a change.
Actually, I now realize that you are in fact very much like an girl I used to
date. Regardless, I saw in the rearview as I departed your life, having broken
the rhythm of our waltz, that you nearly dropped your iPhone; I am terribly
sorry. Perhaps you should invest in some Bluetooth.
To the lady in the elevator:
I am so very sorry. I had been in the library for a couple of
hours holding it in. I knew it was going to be bad. I knew when the doors
opened and I saw you waiting that a warning was the right and prudent thing to
do. But how does one broach that subject with a stranger? I saw your face as
the doors closed; I watched you ascend through the glass panels of your own
private prison hell. I tried to apologize then, mouthing “I’m sorry,” but I
doubt you could see me through the tears. No one deserves to be blindsided like
that; I should have swallowed my embarrassment and spoke up, but the moment
passed and my conscience was too late. I am so very, very sorry.
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