ARTICLE BY NICK MASON for Tatler Magazine, July 1997
For the "Life's A Bitch" column (each written by a guest writer)
All people can be punctual if
they choose to be. Any evening at the cinema or theatre will prove the
point that out of a sample of a thousand or so people, only about 0.03
per cent will fall foul of events sufficiently to make them
grovellingly, apologetically late.
Regrettably, any social or
business meeting that does not involve the selling of tickets for a
predetermined time is more likely to have a lateness quota of about 25
per cent and, as soon as one's partner is involved, the ratio of the
punctuality-challenged can rise to a frightening 50 per cent. Exactly
why these people are late is a mystery. It may be revenge, an attempt
at a controlling device or a sad overconfidence in how much they can
achieve in the time available, but it's still maddening, and arouses
about as much sympathy in the punctual as the Bolsheviks felt for the
Tsar.
Part of the problem is
that lateness has become part of the fabric of western civilisation.
The airlines set a frightful example. What should be a hi-tech,
stainless-steel chronograph of an industry is little more than a
fantasy schedule based on a theoretical world where passengers don't
get lost in the duty free; the crew isn't stuck on the M25 and the
aircraft has actually arrived from New York. When some passengers are
expected to wait for 12 hours attempting to sleep on horribly
uncomfortable seats (if they're lucky), but others can be refused
boarding because they arrived only 30 minutes before take-off, it is
little wonder that the airlines are so anxious to prevent passengers
carrying weapons.
Trains don't even qualify
for this discussion since they not only run late but frequently fail to
reach their destination at all. To be deposited at Watford or
Wolverhampton instead of one's chosen destination is unforgivable.
Buses are hopeless, ironically because of all the people who don't
trust public transport and therefore prevent it from functioning. And
using your own car has become a lottery - ensuring a choice between a
crisis of lateness or an hour to kill, usually in that limbo period of
early closing.
Restaurants have become
inured to lateness, and punctuality may find you herded to the bar by a
surprised manager. Gone are the days when if you were half an hour late
the maitre d' would be glaring at his watch and tutting; nowadays you
have to be extraordinarily drunk and disorderly to get that response.
In the good old days the kitchen closed, the chef went home and that
was that. But the cult of the unpunctual has triumphed; chefs are now
working the same hours as junior doctors. As for those diners who do
turn up on time, their purgatory will be to sit alone, trying to look
relaxed while gently simmering under the pitying looks from other
tables. The trick is to retain a welcoming, but hurt, expression while
hissing all those carefully thought-out resentments just out of the
hearing of other diners.
Some occupations are
particularly renowned for tardiness. Show business thrives on it, with
rock music taking the major awards. I recall a Paris recording studio
in the early Eighties with a resigned - and punctual - Bill Wyman
explaining that Charlie would be on time, Mick maybe a few hours late
and Keith perhaps a week. Small wonder he quit to concentrate on the
restaurant business.
Punctual habits are
encouraged by consultants who charge by the hour. If the clock starts
at the appointed moment, it seems foolish to spend the money being
somewhere else. On the other hand, if you, the client, are being kept
waiting, you can fight back. If you are corralled in a waiting room, I
recommend requesting access to a phone. Start dialing long distance. If
offered a coffee, ask for croissants as well - with butter, jam and
freshly squeezed juice.
Try and get to the copier
and the fax machine. Anyone who can capture and hold these commanding
heights should be able to negotiate an early end to the wait. If this
is impossible, a visit to the bathroom to steal the soap might help. A
delay of more than 30 minutes calls for an accident with the plumbing.
It's time for a change in
attitude. It's time both bride and groom arrived early enough to greet
all their guests at the church door. The dentist should be standing
expectantly outside his waiting room 10 minutes before the patient is
due, and the National Health Service should be advertising the need for
hip-replacement patients to keep the empty beds full and under-employed
surgeons in work. Then maybe we'd have time to solve the mystery of why
the more expensive the watch, the less punctual the wearer.
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