Death threat to Cable Guy raises question of whether apology is in order

Mobsters never apologize after threatening to kill someone. But I’m no mobster. My roots are Southern, where “please” and “thank you” weren’t optional.

I’m wrestling with how I should have best handled an incident recently, when I threatened to kill a pleasant man trying to help me.

Some background: I’m one of those who watch TV with an analog antenna, one of the many who will lose television reception in February if I don’t make some changes. I decided to upgrade, with the help of a friend. He e-mailed me a link to the TV he recommended, it looked good, so we went to the store and, without looking at any other TV, zeroed in on that one. (My primary function at the store was to offer up my credit card.)

Without my friend, it would have been an exercise in stress. I would have gone in clutching Consumer Reports, looked at a lot of televisions and anguished for hours, hitting multiple stores.

If you’re a dinosaur like me and lucky enough to have a friend like mine, and he offers help, don’t hesitate. Impose. It will save you time and aggravation.

Now I’m the proud owner of a 32-inch high-definition TV, a dramatic improvement from the 19-incher of old. When my friend put the old TV into my car trunk, I asked if anyone might want it since it still works. “Maybe a history museum,” he said.

Now, instead of getting five channels, I get 300.

He set it up and left me with three remotes, each one with a booklet. Presently, I’m reading the 57-page booklet on how to use the cable remote. Let’s just say I haven’t quite mastered the remote. But I can turn on the TV and find a channel.

Needless to say, my death threat wasn’t toward my friend.

The death threat occurred the day before.

When the helpful Cable Guy came out to do his thing, I told him he needed to shut the door when he went in and out, because I had an indoor cat. He did his thing while I worked at my computer, and when the time came for him to go, I walked him to the front door — which was open.

I looked at him, and without hesitating, said, “If my cat is gone, I’m going to kill you.”

And I meant it.

And he knew I meant it.

He looked stricken, and I looked like a killer without mercy, someone out of “Good Fellas” but without the profanity.

Dashing through the house, looking in all the likely places, revealed no Mr. Darcy. He wasn’t under the bed, behind the furniture or in the clothes hamper. My murderous instincts were getting stronger. The Cable Guy was looking pale. Finally, a second check on the other side of the bed showed Mr. D asleep and oblivious to my calls.

Now here’s my etiquette question. At that point, should I apologize? The majority of my friends say no. The Cable Guy knew he needed to shut the door, and he didn’t.

One friend with dogs who just took a gun class said, “I think I would just pretend I didn’t say it! However, I know what you mean. … I would have meant it as well! When I went to the gun training class, the instructor was pretty clear that women will never shoot someone over ‘things,’ even their expensive jewelry, but they WILL shoot someone over their pets and family.”

The yes or no answers to this etiquette question seemed to break down over whether you had pets. Non-pet owners seemed to think that threatening to kill the Cable Guy was an overreaction.

Well, I didn’t apologize at the time. Neither did the Cable Guy. We just acted like the entire episode never happened. Later, I felt bad. Frankly, I didn’t know I had it in me to talk like that.

So, Cable Guy, consider this an apology, because I should have locked the cat up.

My father taught me: Don’t rely on people doing what you ask them to do. Take preventive steps yourself.

Then you won’t be apologizing for making death threats to the Cable Guy.

Jane Ann Morrison’s column appears Monday, Thursday and Saturday. E-mail her at Jane@reviewjournal.com or call (702) 383-0275.