It’s 5:35 P.M. Five minutes after we were supposed to leave and she’s barely stepping out of the shower? “I’m O.K.,” I think to myself. “Instead of being there 15 minutes early, we’ll be right on time. No big deal.”
It doesn’t matter what the event is, she’s going to be late. Of course, the bigger the function, the longer it takes to get ready. This can work to your favor, or it could backfire. You have to take into consideration the extenuating circumstances of the day.
In a perfect world (one where nothing goes on), you may be OK. She may realize the length of time to prepare and allot the proper amount of time. But this isn’t a perfect world. In this world there are distractions.
Maybe Brandon has soccer practice or Madison has cello rehearsal. Perhaps there are no kids, but there is an Ally McBeal marathon on Lifetime that she simply has to catch up on. This usually ends up being some really messed up math problem. If it were, it would look something like this:
C (the Chick) +MEBS (Macy’s Early Bird Sale)-BFBS (Brownies For Bale Sale. Hubby/boyfriend/loser ate the ones she baked last night so she has to go buy store bought ones and look undomesticated)+ LTVWV (Lifetime TV With Vodka. Three hours worth.) = OT to the -90th power. (OT is On Time, and “to the -90th power” refers to the 90 minutes late “C” was.)
What it should look like is this:
C + D (the Dude) +OT= <3
When she finally finishes getting ready (sometime around the end of the first period or midway before intermission), she pops cheerfully down the stairs and asks, “What have you been doing?” My typical answer is, “Nothing. Just working on my next heart attack. Or stroke. My money is on stroke.”
Women have to realize that for guys who like being on time, this stress process starts hours before the actual time of departure. We’re casually asking how long you will need to get ready tonight. That way we can help you avoid the obstacles that somehow always get put in your way.
The pressure starts building somewhere around four or five hours before departure. I’m starting to get a little stressed, but nothing too bad. I’m keeping watch for anything that may distract her from our time sensitive mission. If it looks like trouble is brewing, I will spend a few minutes with my right hand man, Jack Daniels. Jack is a good friend like that.
As the time draws nearer, the stress builds, but I power through it. About three hours before lift off I start trying to get her away from her cell phone and e-mail. I don’t need a friend having some bullshit “major crisis” just before we go out. If it involves a marriage, I may end up being a Lone Eagle for the night. Don’t laugh. It’s happened.
You have to be vigilant til the very end, because you never know what may happen. A fuse may blow or a hairdryer might crap out. If there are fashion questions involved, that’s a whole different can of worms.
I could go on for hours, but my best advice is to go with your gut. And remember, she’s your wife or girlfriend, not the slut sliding down the pole by the airport. Cleavage is nice, but no one needs to see her belly button at the bottom of the V-neck.
The bottom line? She’s never on time and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it!