Marilyn Monroe was always late for everything, but as Billy Wilder once said, it was worth waiting for her. What’s more, Marilyn had a deep-rooted psychological reason for her tardiness; having been discarded and treated badly as a child, she now wanted to punish mankind one person at a time.
But what about all the non superstars I know who can’t seem to show up when they’re supposed to? They have no Freudian explanation for their lateness, nor are they all that worth waiting for! And yet they persist in being so chronically late they’d probably miss their own funerals!
Just once I’d like to toddle over to a hookup with these people and actually see them there, punctual and smiling. Instead, I end up standing there for an eternity, fuming and wishing I had a nicer watch to keep looking at. And the excuses they come up with when they finally arrive only add insult to injury–like “There was traffic” (There’s ALWAYS traffic; why don’t you factor that in when you leave the house?) or they were busy. (As if I wasn’t!)
Sometimes I’ll purposely show up 15 minutes late, trying to outsmart them at their only game, but they always win. They show up 30 minutes late! So I go back to being on time, waiting, worrying, and realizing this is the sad fate of someone who actually honors an agreement. It sucks to be me!