Can we talk for a moment about people who have no fucking concept of time and how it passes? How are there still people in this world who don’t know how to keep track of time? In this day and age of cell phones, MP3 players, iPads, laptops and fancy digital watches, there is no excuse for not knowing what time it is. Every single device that we carry on us these days has the goddamn time on it. There is no excuse. At my job, the customers are asked to get there thirty minutes before showtime so they can be sat and we can get their drinks for them before the performance starts. This hardly ever happens. If a show is at 8:00, I can’t tell you how many people drag their late sorry ass into the club at 7:58 and then get all pissy that I am trying to hurry them to their seat and take a drink order.
“Do you know what I can bring you to drink, folks?”
“Well, we just got here so… no. Can we have a few minutes to settle in?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, but your ‘settling in’ time started 28 minutes ago and we are now in the ‘give me your drink order’ time.”
They’re never ready so I have to go back in after the show starts and then they get all pissy that I am bothering them as their best friend in the world is performing; their best friend who they couldn’t show up on time for.
Last week, ten people showed up forty-five minutes late for a show that only lasted an hour. Lucky for them we started the show fifteen minutes late because when it was time to start the show there was nobody fucking there. Starting something late to allow for the latecomers only encourages the latecomers to continue being late. Does this make any sense? What about those of us who show up on time? Do we not matter? If I leave early enough to allow for the possibility (probability) that the 7 train just decided to not stop at my station that day, and I still make it somewhere on time, I should be rewarded with the event starting in a timely manner. I shouldn’t be punished by having to wait fifteen minutes for everyone else. I think things should start on time. Period.
A few days ago, we started a show on time and then this woman showed up ten minutes late. “Oh, the show already started?” she asked. She was all surprised. “Well, the show was scheduled to start at 7:30 and it did,’ the host told her. “But you never start on time,” she replied. Touché, lady. We usually don’t because we are waiting on bitches like you who don’t show up on time. But not that day. Sit your ass down and get over it.
I realize this post is not ground-breaking, news-worthy or even remotely interesting but it had to be said. In the seventh grade, I got a digital watch that was all the rage. It had two alarms on it so I set it for everything. I set it to wake me up, to catch the bus, to do my homework, to watch television, to make a phone call, to masturbate, to go to bed, you name it. I became a stickler for timeliness. I was never tardy to the party even though that was not yet a saying and I was never invited to a party. (Who would invite a nerd who worshipped his digital watch to a party?) My point is, I want people to pay attention to the the time. Show up for reservations on time, your job on time, your dates on time, and most of all, show up to my station on time. Because if you don’t, I will wait until the most poignant and quietest moment of the show and that is when I will barge up to your table and ask you if you would like a spinach artichoke dip.
(Bonus points if you can name the two musical artists referred to in the title and picture.)
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