The perils of pathological punctuality

Categories: everyday-disasters

Tags: punctuality

Date: 17 September 2007 16:41:59

Owing to my completely unnecessary anxiety about journeys and lateness, I arrived half an hour early (as I thought) at a central London hotel today to have coffee with a friend who's going back to her home in Australia. No problem - I finished reading a book I wanted to give her, started the Guardian crossword and waited. After half an hour there was no sign of her (to quote Mervyn Peake. 'I saw all of a sudden No sign of any ship'). After three quarters of an hour, still no sign. Not only that but being a fogey, I didn't have her mobile number. Beginning to panic, I asked the reception to phone their other branch nearby in case she'd gone there. No dice.

After an hour of waiting, by which time she was half an hour late and I had finished my crossword, I decided to cut my losses and go for a coffee in their restaurant on my own. Had my coffee, read another paper, and finally gave up. So I walked back through the foyer - and there she was. In spite of having the appointment written down quite correctly at home (which I failed to check), I had actually switched it to an hour earlier in my head!

No sooner had we sorted that out and started talking, than the fire alarm went off in the hotel and we were evacuated. Not to be defeated, we decamped to another hotel nearby, and ended up having a very therapeutic time together.

Next time, I shall check the time very carefully indeed. But then next time with her will be in Australia.

PS: Amazingly, when I got home I still managed to fit in my work quota for the day (I'm chasing a deadline).