Fresh out of remorse at this bakery

When Sana and I lived in Vietnam, we lived in a community called “EcoPark.” Beautiful place, and we both loved it. The apartment building we lived in was one of four massive towers called Westbay, and as there’s probably around 1000 residents of each 30 story building, you can imagine the elevators are a pretty important feature of the buildings. Our building had 5 running elevators to accommodate the thousand or so residents of the building. And at peak times during the day, they were all really busy. Including the freight elevator. The freight elevator is meant for people moving in and out, or moving a piece of furniture up or down. And for a short while, it was the only elevator we can use to transport our dog Cinnamon. You see the Vietnamese in the building got together and something Americans would call a town hall meeting. A bunch of old Vietnamese women stood up on chairs and complained with weeping and gnashing of teeth about all the dogs that are in the elevators. Evidently there wasn’t much discussion on the matter, so it was decided by consensus that Cinnamon would use the freight elevator, along with her owners, Sana and me. The guy who smells like dead mackerel and hasn’t showered in a week? Put him in any old elevator he chooses. Poor 8 pound Cinnamon, who is meticulously cared for by Sana – who teaches meticuloustacity in her spare time? To the freight elevator you go, along with your inconsiderate owners. Now the freight elevator is located next to the other 4 elevators, and its button doesn’t call the other elevators. So people would impulsively press both buttons. Evidently the thought was that having two elevators at their beck and call will get them to the Promised Land of Floor 1 a few seconds sooner. As you can imagine, another elevator had more often than not arrived before the sluggish freight elevator arrives. Which made the trek down from the 23rd floor very slow. Each trip down would have at least 5 stops at various floors, only to have no one get in. To add insult to injury, there’s a little robotic female voice that says in perfect English, “Sorry to keep you waiting.” One time in particular kind of got under my skin a little bit. I got in the freight elevator with Cinnamon and began the trek down. Floor 19: stop, no one there, door closes. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Floor 16: stop, no one there, door closes. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Floor 12: stop, no one there, door closes. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Floor 9: stop, no one there, door closes. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Floor 6, stop, no one there, door closes. Silence. Why no apology for “keeping me waiting”? Floor 6 is apparently unconcerned with the plight of those who suffer “the empty stop”. Floor 6 knows there are things in this life more worthy of concern than the trifling inconvenience of an empty elevator stop. It was as though Floor 6 said, “I know you’re put out by this, but frankly I’ve got my own problems. You’re on your own, pal.” Honestly I like Floor 6. All this apologizing for everything is kind of annoying. Just the other day, I had a problem with my cell phone service. I ended up calling the provider 4 or 5 times, and each time the person said something like, “I apologize for this trouble.” I finally said to one of them, “I don’t want your apology; I just want you to fix this.” I ended up switching cell phone carriers. When you inevitably make a mistake, be like Floor 6 at Westbay. Don’t apologize; just fix the issue and get on with life. At last one person on this earth will appreciate you for it.