Since time has such different meanings in different cultures, communication is ofte.n difficuit. We will understand each other a little better if we can ksep this fact in mind.
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I am a member of a small, nearly extinct minority group who insist, even though it seems to be out of date, on the sanctity of being on time. Which is to say that we On-timers are compulsively, unfashionably prompt, that there are only handfuls of us left, and, unfortunately, we never seem to have appointments with each other.
The fact is that being on time has become a social mistake. The fact is that generally speaking, the time that the Late-people set as the Moment of Rendezvous is a code. It is a code meaning at least one half-hour later. The fact is that we Ontimers can't get that into our heads. We arrive invariably at the appointed hour at people's houses, which means that we have occasionally eaten'all the sandwiches before the other guests arrive. Which means that we are rude.
Let me explain. We are, for example, invited for dinner at eight o'clock at the home of friends who live exactly twenty minutes away. We leave our house at ten to eight so that for once we will be a comfortable ten minutes late. Then even the traffic defeats us. We meet only green lights and arrive at four minutes to eight. We drive about for a while and then enter at one minute past , to the astonishment of the host and hostess.
She is at an important stage of preparation with the saucepans. He is thinking about taking a shower. We end up helping with the first course and putting the baby to hed and mixing the drinks and are still left with enough time to analyse what kind of people our hosts are from the magazines on the coffee table. As for meeting in restaurants , you can immediately recognise us On-timers. We are the only non-alcoholics standing in restaurant doorways in December. If not, we can always be found killing time in the cloakroom or trying to look as if we are not alone at the bar.
Now, we all know that these very same Late-people do not routinely miss planes or the beginnings of films. But, as I told a late-person recently, "If I were a train, I'd be gone. . . " With regard to meetings there are two kinds of peoplc. Those who hate to wait and those who hate to make others wait. The sadists and the masochists? I hope not.
There was a New York magazine piece once about the power struggle involved in business lunches. It intimated that you could always tell the powerless and the powerful. The Indians were waiting, while the Chiefs arrived half an hour or an hour later. If you are an On-timer, you cannot make an entrance.
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