Being late and other peoples imposed commitments

Now this will either hit home with you or you will be one of those people who don’t share my resentment towards people who are late, because you most probably are such a person. Being late is a sin. It is the most impolite and rudest thing to do. Then to make it worse is turn up after your agreed time and act like it’s no big deal. If you are such a sort, do you know what you’re saying about the other person? That their time is not important. Their very being and other commitments are obsolete. You are basically looked upon with the same sense of human warmth as child molester.

Why be late? I don’t understand it. In order to not be late you leave early. You don’t agree to meet at nine, then get up at nine and say you’ll be there in half an hour. Or talk about your “bitch of a hangover.” Tough! We’ve all felt like we’ve been thrown at deaths door by two of satins heavy handed minions, but that’s no excuse. It’s self inflicted. The only excuse that harvests no negative feelings is death. Death for you, death for a person you love or on the way. That I can say, “Ok, fine. I’ll just order another Americano and blueberry muffin so the trip isn’t a complete waste of time.”

Another thing which some people do is ask a favour of you. And generally, unless their Adolf Hitler or George Bush, you agree because you’re a ‘nice’ person. You want to be helpful. But then, after some time, the favour hangs over your head like a constipated vulture. You wait for the person to come, but they fail to appear. It gets drawn out, and now it becomes an inconvenience. Let me give you an example. An acquaintance wants to play a CD in my hi-fi (no sexual innuendo), and I’m now sat watching black adder waiting for this so and so to turn up with his disk of relief and sod off again. Thing is, he asked 4 hours ago and I want to open a bottle of wine, have a glass, watch the rest of black adder and relax. But I can’t because I know any second this person with the human sensitivity of a carrot, will appear at my door.

The best idea is probably just pretend I’m not in. When the knock comes I become a mute. But why should I live my life like this to appease someone I don’t particularly like anyway. I’ve just thought of another thing. I wish some people would just get the hint that no one likes them.