Falling in to the Port-a-potty

Well I worked my last day at Napa yesterday (X-mas eve eve). I was served one last heaping serving of humility by God. Early in the day I mistakenly took an axle seal to Tuffy, an exhaust shop, instead of Don's, a radiator shop. I was a little under the weather and I was having bad brain flatulence. Anyway after Don's got tired of waiting they called and asked and I had to run to Tuffy's and take the part to Don's. Later I was supposed to take 2 55 gallon barrels of oil to the same Don's and strangely enough I took them to Tuffy's again! I left there and made another delivery and then went back to the Napa store. The store owner looked pissed when I walked in the door. He asked me where I took the barrels and I immediately realized what I'd done. Not only had I screwed up big, the co-owner of the store was waiting at Don's to help me unload the barrels, and had now been waiting for 20 or 30 minutes. I rushed back to Tuffy's to pick up the barrels. The co-owner was waiting there now to help me reload the barrels. He is a nice guy, but he tends to rub peoples noses in their mistakes, which I felt he started doing as soon as I arrived. The mechanics who helped me unload the barrels at Tuffy's were none too understanding either. We got them loaded and moved over to Don's in two separate trips, thus allowing the most opportunities for both the co-owner and the Tuffy's employees to make jokes at my expense. To top all of this off everyone involved knew that this was my last day at Napa and that I would be starting as a Police Officer next week in the same city that both of these shops are located. Everything within me wanted to react by using this as an opportunity to help my co-owner realize how toxic his criticism could be. And then all of the sudden it became clear what my response should be. Thankfully God broke thru the fog of image-management I was in and told me to thank the co-owner for helping me out of this pickle that I had gotten myself into. It was beautiful. It did nothing to throw the blame off of me. It did nothing to salvage my image or ensure all involved that I'm not a complete nincumpoop. And somehow I actually brought myself to say it. I was so proud of myself. I've already fallen off the wagon and tried to protect my image again since then, but that experience of trying to figure out how to gracefully climb back out of the port-a-potty tank after falling in serves as a shining example of good decision making for me.