LIFE LESSONS
The Fine Art of Being Late
It can be catastrophic or an advantage
I was late for my wedding.
We were eloping in Vegas, but my best man and I got stuck behind unexpected road construction. My parents were waiting at the chapel with my fiancé, and my father stupidly told her that maybe I had changed my mind. This was before cell phones, so there was no way to put her at ease.
Forty-five minutes later, I arrived to find a fuming bride who flatly stated she never wanted to speak to my father again. Instead of joy, it made for a tense ceremony.
Sadly, my family was known for being late. Everyone called it Acevedo time and compensated for it. For example, when one of my nieces got married, she told my family the wedding was at 5 pm when it was really at 5:30 p.m. Even then, one of my brothers was still an hour late.
Fortunately, I outgrew that phase, mainly because my second wife freaks out if she’s running late, so she gets us out the door early for everything. This habit seems to have rubbed off on me.
There are times when showing up late is acceptable and maybe even expected. Take a party, for instance. If it starts at 8 pm, no one ever shows up at 8.
