There we were, a ghost, Jason from Friday the 13th, a gorilla, and god knows what else. There were about 8 of us that year, horsing around my friend’s house after school waiting for our last friend to show up, so we could commence trick or treating. We were probably about 9 years old that year, the pinnacle of Halloween. We were able to pick out our own outfits, no longer could our parents dress us up in fucking pumpkin costumes (thank god that picture hasn’t been scanned onto facebook yet), and this was the first year we were allowed to go trick or treating on our own. Our plan was simple: get lots of candy, avoid the high school kids who would try and egg us, get back to our buddies house watch Simpsons Treehouse of Horrors and gorge ourselves on the candy we had.
And you know what…it almost never happened. Why? Because my best friend was late. Really fucking late. We got about 45 minutes of trick or treat time, missed most of the Simpsons, and my candy lasted me about two days. I’ll leave full names out of it, but we invented the term, “B***r Time,” after that night, because this kid operated on a whole different space/time continuum than the rest of the world.
How effing hard is it to show up on time, generally speaking. I get the fact that in many cases there are extenuating circumstances, but most of the time that is not true. To quote one of the greatest comedies ever made, “Well, no, why don’t we say 9:30, and then make it your beeswax to be here by 9:30? I mean, we’ll all be in our late 20s by then. I just don’t see any reason why we can’t be places on time. ” (Wet Hot American Summer). When you’ve agreed to be somewhere, or meet someone at a certain time, just do your best to accomplish that.
Guess what? If you think you might be late – That last beer before you head out the door…doesn’t need to be drunk. That last mile on the bike, skip it. While I realize the following statement is not what chronically late people are actually implying, it seems to those of us chronically affected by it that you deem your time to be more important than ours. Again, I want to stress that I understand that isn’t what you people (yeah I said it, “you people,”) are actually saying to the rest of us, but it is how it comes off.
I have two friends (yes, that’s right, only two), who shall also remain anonymous. Both of them have had some terrific softball careers. One of them was somewhat of a team leader, showing up on time, running practices, etc etc…however in his final at bat one season he had the chance to be the hero – runners in scoring position, two outs in the final inning, and he struck out looking. Clearly he can’t come up big when it matters. The other friend is a bit like Manny Ramirez (not the hitting aspect, the mental aspect). She shows up some games, sometimes late, she doesn’t show up others. You get the point. She had a walkoff single last week. Who would you rather have on your team?
Well, the one that shows up late and comes through in the clutch of course. This doesn’t support my overall statement in any way, but I just heard the story about my buddy that struck out looking, and had to squeeze it in here.