This morning my bus picked me up about 25 minutes late. The reason? "An error on my part," the driver later told us as part of a gracious apology delivered over the loudspeaker. "I misread the schedule."
The candor of that admission was almost enough to make me overlook its absurdity.
He could have told us anything, and we would have accepted it. He could have made something up, which is what they do back at the office when you call DeCamp for info. ("The leprechauns stole all of the spark plugs...again!") But he didn't.
I appreciate the honesty.