When You Are Wrong Don’t Make Excuses

When I was in college my good friend Hugh and I used to talk about writing a book entitled, “Excuses, Excuses.” We were excuse experts. We had many excuses about why we never wrote it. As we got older we both stopped using so many excuses and learned that honesty and apologies got us further. Today I encountered a young guy who is still in the excuse stage of life and it was my interaction with him that reminded me of that book idea.  
This morning as I was trying to get out of my driveway to go to the gym my line of sight was completely blocked by a giant dump truck with a trailer that had pulled up right to the edge of my driveway. Since the name on the truck indicated they were a grading contractor and the trailer was empty I assumed they were working at my next door neighbor’s house. Since it is the only house having any work done right now I thought they would back the truck away from my driveway when they had a chance since it was blocking my mailbox. They were the only vehicle parked on the street as far as the eye could see.
I returned from the gym and the truck was still there, but I had to go right back out to take Shay to her check up. I got home and the truck was still there. When I went to lunch, it was still there and I had to roll all the windows down in my car so I could listen for any cars coming down the street since I could not see that way the truck blocked my view of the road.
When I came home at three-thirty I had a terse note from my postman about the truck. Now not only had the truck made me mad, but it had pissed off my most important civil servant. I walked down the driveway to find the men who owned the truck. “Are you going to be working here tomorrow?” I asked the two of them.

“Yes, Ma’am.” The older of the two men replied.
“Then, can I please ask you not to park in front of my mailbox and so close to my driveway? I could not see to pull out of my driveway and the mailman is mad.”
The easy answer could have been, “Yes, Ma’am.” They already knew those words. But the twenty something spoke first. “It was the only place to park, ” he foolishly said to me in a defiant tone. The older one was getting nervous. “I’m moving the truck.”
I gave the younger one the “what kind of fool do you think I am look” as I gestured to the completely empty street, save their truck, and said, “Really?”
“It was all parked up this morning,” he back peddled.
“I live here, I know exactly how parked up it was all day.”  
The older one, knowing they had not excuse and fearing that older-woman-going-to-pick-a-fight-you-will-never-win tone in my voice said, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
I looked at the young one and said, “That’s how you respond.” I turned to the older one and thanked him as I walked up the driveway. As I walked out on the completely empty street except for their truck I thought this young guy was a total amateur in excuse department. Never make an excuse where the truth boldly refutes you with one glance.