I play no game that involves an apology.

Anyone that knows me knows that I have a hard time with apologies. It’s not that I don’t genuinely feel sorry, or that I don’t feel responsible, or that I don’t feel bad, there’s just something about the words “I’m sorry” that stick in my throat every time.

It’s strange for me to try to explain how I feel when I need to apologize for something. I have no problems with taking responsibility for things, especially (but not limited to) things that are my fault.

Let me tell you a story from my childhood.

My father is a crazy person. For real. I don’t know exactly what kind of craziness he has, but that’s not really the point.

One day when I was about 10 or 11 my brother, sister and I were all home. It was summertime and we were out of school. My father was in the process of “starting his own business” which basically consisted of him sitting on the couch in his underwear for approximately two years. Anyway, he had decided that he was going to mow the lawn.

He’s outside mowing for 20 or so minutes while Ters, Bean and I are in the house watching TV. Then we hear the lawnmower turn off. We all look at each other. You see, this has happened before, not with the lawnmower necessarily, but in other circumstances, so we know what’s coming.

My father comes into the house and calls us all into the kitchen. He stands us there in a line in front of him, and just looks at us for almost a full minute. He doesn’t say anything at first, but he sure looks pissed off. I think he did this part for intimidation purposes. All it did for me was make me angry.

Then he asks us “ Who put the rock in the grass?”

And that’s all he said, then he waited.

What the hell kind of stupid question is that, you may be thinking. But, to my father it is a perfectly reasonable question and it needed to be answered.

My mind flashed back to a few days ago when Ters, Bean and I were all playing outside. One of them had gone into the neighboring field and brought back a fist-sized rock. Of course, being outside, after we were done playing, the rock was left on the ground. I knew this is what my father was pissed about; he probably ran it over with the lawn mower.

None of us kids answered him.

Not the reaction he was looking for.

He punched Ters in the face, he pushed me down, and he pushed Bean too. When Bean fell she hit the stove.

Like I said earlier, this was not the first time he did one of his “line-ups”. It was the same every time. He would get pissed about something. Line all three of us kids up, then ask us some stupid question and hit us until one of us admitted to the offense.

As a side note, he did run the rock over with the lawn mower but it didn’t do any damage to anything. All the rock did was fly a few feet in the air. It didn’t damage the lawn mower, it didn’t break the window of a van at the neighbor’s house, it didn’t damage our house.

It was just a rock, on the ground, outside.

The worst part about these line-ups for me was watching him hit my brother and sister. So, as a result, I was usually the one to take the blame for whatever he was pissed about whether I did it or not. That way, he could take his anger out on me alone, and Ters and Bean could just go to their rooms. After he was done hitting me, I’d go to my room too and he’d be calm again for a while.

Do I resent my brother and sister for letting me take the blame?

No, I don’t. I love them more than any other two people on the face of the planet. We were made from exactly the same thing, we grew up together, we are three pieces of the same whole, I would give my life for either one of them.

The bottom line is, I chose to make myself responsible for whatever it was that was done wrong. I didn’t have to take the blame for them. I chose to do it.

Bean still has a hard time with these scenarios. She feels guilty now that she let me take the blame when she knew it was her, but I don’t think she should feel that way. She was a child, a little kid, and I’m glad I could spare her some amount of pain.

But that brings me back to the “I’m sorry” thing. I’m willing to bet that these scenarios have had something to do with why it’s so hard for me to say, even when I am the one that is wrong.

This is especially difficult when a guest complains at the hotel. Very, very, very few of the complaints that I field have anything to do with me or work that I have/have not done. Most of the complaints are about things like the cleanliness of the rooms, or the type of room people end up with, or that our pool isn’t open late enough. None of these things have anything to do with me. I am not personally responsible for any of them, but it is still my job to apologize for whatever is wrong.

I know that maybe I have a hard time doing this because I took the blame so many times for things that were not my fault, but that doesn’t explain why I have a hard time apologizing for things that are my fault.

All I know is that every time I try to say, “I’m sorry” I have to force it out. Even if I am really sorry, I still have to force it.

So, that’s why I play no game that involves an apology. If I did we’d be sitting there all night waiting for something that would never come :)