...today I was driving to work having my usual preparatory commute fit, thinking about how no one at the casino ever apologizes to me for anything. Which wouldn't be a big deal except that they're wrong, A LOT, and I'm right, OFTEN, and they (being the clientele) throw abuse at me EVERY DAY. Of course they also act horribly towards each other, but their disputes are usually settled quickly with a perfunctory, "I'm sorry," not because anyone actually is sorry, but because you never know whom you might have to ask for money later in the evening. (It's like that; everyone ends up being friends) But there's no advantage to be gained from apologizing to me; to do so would be to admit culpability, or responsibility for their actions. They feel it is part of my job to be screamed at, coughed on, cheated, threatened, condescendingly chastized, and generally put in my place, and it is.
...so I sit down at work and within the first five minutes of my shift, a guy reaches over me to place a bet and nails me right in the eye with his elbow. Hard. Like, a good mugger-disabling move. It didn't hurt a lot, but I was afraid he'd broken my glasses, and said something like "godDAMNit."
...He immediately apologized. Genuinely. It was a complete accident, he was this drunk Peruvian fellow, and he was very very nice about it. I didn't know him, but he's one of those kind of players who I actually like, a working-class recreational drinker/gambler who lives in the real world and can actually recognize when they've inconvenienced someone. That is, a non-sociopath.
...So I finally got apologized to at work, and all I had to to was get hit in the face. Be careful what you wish for.