Bedside Manner of Speaking

That crack I made to a neighbor about him being next in line for the "Dumbest Human Being On The Planet" award was a tad much, I know. Likewise, me telling my aunt she wears more makeup than Kiss. And the snarky, "Dude, that collar thing you've got goin' is so played out" line directed at the priest in the convenience store was totally uncalled for but nothing compared to the incident at the barber shop where I laughed uncontrollably at the guy admiring his new haircut in the mirror (you should've been there). Oh, and the road rage regarding that "Meals on Wheels" volunteer for taking too long at the four-way stop just after the fiasco at Walmart where I questioned the masculinity of a man trying on a pair of big, fluffy slippers was really unconscionable. There was other stuff, too, but those were the particulars I can remember off the top of my head.

So, yeah, not my best morning. But here's the thing: for some reason, it all turned out just fine. No harm, no foul in each and every case. I know, I know, how does that even happen? I reacted like an arrogant ass. My behavior was reprehensible. And yet, I was forgiven and all because I accidentally stumbled onto a full-proof alibi that works like a charm, its beauty being its simplicity: At the end of each repellent encounter I mustered a sheepish smile while bowing my head, seemingly in shame, and said, "Sorry, woke up on the wrong side of the bed." And, somehow... it worked! The responses from everyone were all along the same line: a cursory look of surprise followed by one of comprehension and finally a knowing smile with a shake of the head; the ol' "been there; done that" reaction. A couple of people even gave me a thumbs up.

Amazingly, this product of my desperation--a Hail Mary pass designed to assuage a bad scene caused by my ill-mannered actions--which immediately became a successful default setting for all future impertinent scenarios, had me scratching my head. So much so, that I found myself delving into exactly where this "blaming it on your bed" deal originated. No surprise, it was the ancient Romans (isn't it always?), ever cautious of exiting the bed on the right rather than left, considered the sinister side, relating to the devil. Actually, the word "sinister" was the Latin word for left. This superstitious conception is also related to the act of throwing salt over your left shoulder to ward off the ol' Prince of Darkness. This thinking also made its way into forcing children early on to refrain from becoming southpaws. Eventually, through the years, this superstition evolved into the more figurative idiom we use today to describe simply being in a bad mood. Whatever the case, it sure managed to save my bacon.

Okay, so you're probably concluding one of two things right now: that first paragraph was a load of hokum; no way I really said and reacted in such a manner to so many different people, and all in just a morning? Or if you did buy in then I'm just a hideous human being who somehow thinks making up an excuse employing an age-old idiom coupled with the fake sheepish smile and head-hanging routine is perfectly okay. So, yeah, no need to get technical as to which (if any) of these scenarios is the answer. No, the much more interesting aspect of all of this is the question it raises: How the hell does such a flimsy excuse get to carry the day when someone behaves badly? A person acts like a total boor and somehow gets to convey the blame onto a piece of furniture in their sleeping quarters? Suddenly the onus is on a side of their bed? They get to throw their entire mattress under the bus?

The answer to the last three questions: Yes, yes and a resounding hell yes! Indeed, the Romans were on to something, the bed excuse just a bellwether to a host of sketchy "it's not my fault" justification spin-offs ever since. Be it the holy rollers exclaiming "The devil made me do it!", the astrology buffs plaint, "I'm only cold and distant because I'm a Capricorn" or the political hacks conning their constituents with, "We wanted to pass that bill for you but we just couldn't muster the votes", the blame game will always have a place in civilization. Hell, it's part of our DNA; just go ask Adam and Eve what they did when caught noshin' that McIntosh by the Big Guy. Adam blamed Eve and she pointed to the serpent, uttering that infamous line (see the holy rollers comment earlier in this paragraph). So, thanks again, Romans, for a wildly creative variation on the "pass the buck" theme.

And finally, to give full disclosure, no, I never said all those things in the first paragraph; it was just for effect. Literary hyperbole. Author's license, if you will. So yeah, sorry to lead you on; it's totally inexcusable and morally bankrupt but the thing of it is it's really not my fault. You see, I got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning (cue the sheepish smile and head-hanging thing).