The Art of Disingenuous Apologies

I was having a conversation a while ago about how annoying apologies are when the person doesn't really think they did anything wrong. This, for some reason, led to me thinking about all sorts of exaggerated examples of insincere apologies. I couldn't stop thinking about all these silly situations, so I figured I would get them out of my head by writing some down.

Act 1

Jeremy stood, staring at what was left of his car. He shook his head, seeing the water-filled interior. There was no way to fix that. The scrapyard offered $200 for the mess and Jeremy had no other choice but to accept. He ran his hand through his hair, anxiously watching the car being lifted high off the ground to be smashed.

Vicki walked up next to him, a cigarette hanging from her mouth. "Man, what a mess."

Jeremy could only glare at her in return.

"Okay, look. I know you're mad about this," she started, turning to face him with her arms crossed. "I'm really sorry that I drunk drove your car into the bottom of a lake. But, I mean, seriously, you could have killed someone that night. Who leaves their keys out on the counter with a bunch of drunk people around?"

"Really?" Jeremy asks, hands turned upward.


Act 2

Nico paced the length of the living room floor watching Charlotte sob into her hands. Her blonde hair was in a messy ponytail as she blew her nose into the sleeve of her hoodie. "I just don't understand how you could do this," she cried. "You threw three years together away, and for what? What do you have to show for it?"

He shook his head, putting his hands on his hips, defiantly. "Look, babe, I'm really sorry that I cheated on you with your sisters. That was wrong of me and I take full blame for it. I had to go over to their apartment to borrow a pumpkin because somebody forgot to stop at the store on the way home from work and get one. One thing led to another, as life often goes, and things got a little out of control."

Charlotte looked up at the man she had planned to spend the rest of her life with, dark bags under her eyes. "Wait, what? she asked, shaking her head in the angry disbelief that only something like this could cause.

Act 3

Johnny had just about had it with his selfish roommate, Carl. In only three months, he had stolen Johnny's food on countless occasions, been late on rent once, accidentally locked himself out of the apartment twice while Johnny was at work, and gotten a noise complaint in the middle of the night. On the bus ride home that day, he decided that having half of the rent paid wasn't worth putting up with Carl anymore. He decided he would talk to him about it that night.

"Carl, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked, in the doorway of his roommate's messy room.

"Sure, what's up?"

"I think we need to talk about our living arrangement here. I just feel like you aren't taking this serio-." Johnny paused, interrupting himself.

He stepped back out into the hallway and walked down to his bedroom. "Roxy!" he called, then whistled, clapping his hands. She always greeted him at the door.

Carl appeared behind him. "Where is Roxy?" Johnny demanded, turning slowly.

Carl hedged, looking guilty. He rubbed the back of his neck and straightened his beanie. "Uh, about that."

"Where is my dog?" Johnny screamed.

"Okay, okay. Let's just calm down. I have this friend who was wanting a husky."

"You sold my dog?" Johnny loomed over his roommate, ready to punch him if necessary.

Carl stepped back. "Whoa, let's just step back for a second. Okay, so, like, I know how mad you were last month when I was late on the rent."

Johnny raged in disbelief. "You sold my dog for rent money?"

"I can get her back! I can totally get her back, man. Let's not freak out or anything. I have my friend's number right here in my phone."

"Wow, I can't believe you've lived for twenty-three years being so stupid," Johnny said, turning into Carl's friend's driveway.

"Hey, man," Carl started, before they headed inside. "I'm really sorry about this whole misunderstanding. I just got to thinking and I was like, yeah, Johnny isn't going to want me to be late on rent again. But I think we can move past this, ya know? I'll work on getting more financially stable and you can work on controlling your temper. We'll work through it together."

Johnny's mouth hung open in shock. "Are you serious? Go get my dog, you idiot."