A while back I was at the library and couldn't find a few reserves. After I asked for help from the librarian, I finally remembered that when I first got my library card my name had been spelled wrong. I made some reserves before it got corrected, and behold. Reserves put under the "F" on the reserve shelf instead of the "S." (I have no idea how that happened. I can't even blame it on my awful handwriting because I had to show my driver's license as proof of address. Apparently they didn't use it as proof of surname spelling.)
Anyway, the librarian was EXTREMELY apologetic about it. (She was not the same librarian as the one who processed my application for a card.) It took several repetitions of her apologies before I managed to extricate myself from the conversation.
On the way home, I told Scott, "I really wasn't even upset. I mean, they spelled my name wrong. They didn't kill a puppy in front of me or something."
(Later I said it was even like a rite of passage, having my funny Italian name spelled wrong. That's the first time it's ever happened. :))
A few days later, I was getting gas at my usual gas station. The pumps there do not print receipts properly, so I nonchalantly went inside and asked for a receipt. The gas station attendant apologized several times while printing my receipt. Again, I was more bothered by the extended apology session than by having to walk an extra 20 steps and spend an extra 60 seconds getting gas.
Yet, I am not a universally chill sort of person. I can't think of any good examples right now (I'm sure Scott could think of some), but if you knew me long enough you'd probably get the impression that I'm a little high-strung.
I kind of wish my brain would just pick one and stick with it.