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LATE

LATE

I am never late.  I mean it.  I am never late.

I actually have contingency plans in effect for the times that my inability to be tardy translates into the fact that I arrive somewhere incredibly early.  I can get coffee as I wait, and the ubiquity of Starbucks as a franchise has made that possibility an almost certainty.  I can read a book on my phone using my Kindle app.  I can duck into some place that has a mirror and make sure that the mascara on my lower lashes hasn’t disappeared completely.  And if it has and I happen to be anywhere near a Sephora or a place that has a MAC counter, I can fully reapply.

But this last Friday night I was late.  I was forty minutes late, which turned out to be both unprecedented and fully unavoidable, and the whole thing threw me.