The Late Show

I've been meaning to write a post about people who are always late; who say they'll meet you at 3:00 and show up around quarter-to-four, often with the lamest of excuses…or no apology at all. Embarrassingly, I find myself late in writing this post because my friend Ken Levine wrote it before I could.

Go read his…and by the way, you should know that Ken and I often meet for lunch — or at least, we did before the world stopped meeting for lunch. I am almost always on-time, especially if you give me a five minute grace period. And Ken is almost always there ahead of me.

I'll add that in my experience, two things cause people I know to be late. One is a complete inability to make an inconsequential decision like what to wear. I had a lady friend once who would spend twenty minutes deciding whether to wear the blue t-shirt or the green t-shirt. She looked just as adorable in one as the other — not a scintilla of difference — but each time it came time to decide between them, she spent more time deciding than I did deciding to buy my house. I am not exaggerating.

We missed airline flights, came in after the opening numbers of musicals, made awkward journeys to our seats fifteen minutes into plays…once, we weren't admitted at all to an event, nor would they refund what I'd paid for the tickets. That wasn't the only reason that relationship didn't last long but it was a contributing factor.

Second problem: In another relationship, she always had a couple of crises in her life and every time she was late — which she always was — it went like this: "Sorry. I was ready to leave on time but then the phone rang and it was that landlord of mine, the one I've been trying to reach for days, calling to do something about fixing the hot water…" One tries to be understanding but when it happens every single time, it's hard.

Anyway, I agree with Ken and I thank him for writing the piece I was going to write. Sorry I didn't get around to it earlier but just as I was about to, the phone rang and it was that landlord of mine, the one I've been trying to reach for days, calling to do something about fixing the hot water. And that's maddening, especially when you don't even have a landlord.