“It still doesn”t work?” he asked. “Let me see.”
He looked at it.
I was sputtering, trying to figure out how best to express my
rage at being forced to spend the morning going back and forth.
“Ah. It”s my fault,” he said.
And suddenly, I wasn”t mad at all.
Mysteriously, the words “it”s my fault” completely defused me. That was all it took.
He made the key a third time. I wasn”t mad any more. The key worked.
And, here I was, on this planet for forty years, and I couldn”t believe how much the three words “it”s my fault” had completely changed my emotions in a matter of seconds.

— http://www.joelonsoftware.com/articles/customerservice.html

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