Baby boy, don’t get me started….

Tardiness: the quality or habit of not adhering to a correct or usual or expected time

Here’s the thing. I think that when a person gets too “picky” about time and how often people follow it closely, they end up looking self-important. And let’s be real people, I’m pretty damn close to perfect, but I do have my flaws.  (Although, is complete and utter selflessness a real flaw?)

I have been known to be picky.

However, there is something to be said for showing up on time. I, for example, like to show up to places early, so when I’m expected, I’m there…early. The person awaiting my arrival steps outside to see that, oh, I’m already there. “What a pleasant surprise!” one exclaims with pure joy and appreciation. How about when my friend walks up to the pub to meet me and finds, oh, that I am already there, gotten us our favorite table, and already pouring them a glass of the house’s finest. How do I do this, you ask?

Because I got there early.

Being early is about surprising people with a little extra courtesy. It’s like an extra sweater on an unexpected chilly day. It’s like the parking spot up front opening up right when you enter the parking lot. It’s like finding extra change in the vending machine that now enables you to buy the pop tarts for $1.00 instead of the stale Whatchamacallit for $.85.  It’s like finding out your not pregnant.

That last one doesn’t really fit, but I wanted to see if you were still paying attention. Don’t worry, I do that to my parents all the time.

So, needless to say, my friends who know the realistic, not-totally-perfect side of me know that I am always early. And I think they would argue that I can be early to a fault.

I will agree that one can be “too early”. It is certainly not fair when I tell someone that I will pick them up at 6 and then am calling them outside their front door at 5:50. I would say that this could come close to being inconsiderate.

But you know what else I think is inconsiderate? BEING LATE.

There. I said it. Now the funny thing is that most of my closest friends are late often. I’m not talking about them being late today. They already know how I feel about it, and they deal with my early calls, so it’s all above board. I’m talking about being told that the Internet guy is going to arrive between the hours of 8-10 only to have to call at 1015 to hear them ask me…”What is your schedule like this afternoon?”

No, no, no. I took off work, got up EARLY, so that I was prepared should you decide to fucking be punctual and arrive at 8. So excuse me for being optimistic that I am not the only one who prefers to get things done earlier instead of getting here just before the buzzer.

The internet providers are forgiven, though. The man who showed up to “get me connected”? Lord, have mercy.  And very kind. It wasn’t his fault the other guy was running late. This guy was the backup. That’s the thing about the backup. The backups role is to step in when the responsible party FUCKS UP! The backup is reliable, has really nice eyes, wears carhartts, smells like dirt and social justice with a dash of some not-too-expensive-but-not-tested-on-animals cologne. I love the backup.

What other kinds of tardy do I hate? Say the reason you needed the internet guy (wow) to come between 8-10 was because you had a doctors appointment that you DID NOT WANT TO BE LATE FOR. And say that you, luckily, end up at the doctors office 3 minutes early, because you got skillz (I make it rain I make it rain). So you sit in the “waiting” room, another thing I hate doing, and thank the heavens that you care this much about other people and their time.

Then say that your doctor, who is really good at what she does and spends as much time with you as needed, ends up taking extra time with the patient before you. 5 minutes pass, 10, 15…Before you know it, I realize something. I have been sitting in this “waiting” (grr) room for almost 30 minutes, which is the EXACT same amount of time I recently spent outside of a bowling alley for an old bastard with a stupid name!

Now, I get that sometimes things happen and then other things need to get shifted, but when you don’t even apologize for keeping me for that long and then tell me you don’t have much time today, I start to feel like you don’t quite get that WE ALL HAVE THINGS TO DO, PLACES TO BE, AND TIMES TO BE THERE!

I’ve got to be honest. If you make me feel like my time isn’t as important as your time, I’m gonna make you feel like your eye is swollen, because I am going to punch you in the eye.

I am totally kidding. But if there was some sort of emotional eye punching that could be done, you better believe it would be on. I’d get bananas-oh-bananas.

Seriously though, please, and I really mean please, if you are supposed to be doing something at 11, be there at 1059. It’s just good manners. And if you get bitten by a dog, or lock your keys in the house, or forget a tampon and have to go look for extra change in a vending machine, call me, text me, or just say “I’m sorry I’m late”. And then wait to feel the emotional “Not a problem” pat on the back from me.

-D

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