My Late Girlfriend

The only time I can recall her being early was on our first date. She wore this neon pink hat, presumably to cover up her still-damp locks. Right after formalities, she started babbling about a broken hairdryer and unbelievably bad luck. I just chuckled in response, though I did find her rambling adorable.

That afternoon, we talked about everything and anything. I was pleasantly surprised to find that conversation flowed naturally between us. No topic was off limits. Then, we started debating on the age-old question: does pineapple belong on pizza? I voted no, she disagreed. There was no second date.

Though we did have coffee a couple times and several dinner meetings, I wouldn’t call those dates. They were more like meet-ups with an advocate for the wrong side of the pineapple-on-pizza debate. I would classify them as attempts to convert a lost soul to the right side. However, somewhere along the line, I was conditioned into joining the dark side. I’m not proud of it but she lured me in with deep-dish pizza. Every time we got pizza after that, she somehow made sure it had some form of pineapple on it. Every. Single. Time. After that period of exposure therapy, I’d hate to admit but Hawaiian pizzas didn’t seem all that bad anymore.

To every one of those non-dates, she was late. The extreme, 20-minutes-or-more kind of late. That drove me crazy at first. My father being German, my siblings and I were drilled on the importance of punctuality. She obviously hadn’t been. Even when I went over to her parents’ place for the first time, she was late. To be frank, don’t even know why I was shocked that day. The evening started out really awkward till she burst in halfway through dinner, a whirlwind of apologies.

“Just sit down," Her dad and I said in unplanned unison.

There was a moment of shocked silence until Rhonda started laughing, followed by my girlfriend. After that unexpected moment, dinner was a breeze. Tim and I got to talking and it turned out that we actually had a lot in common. We both disfavoured Danielle’s chronic unpunctuality and loved golf. Later that night, it was Tim who invited me to the family barbeque on the following weekend. Dani reported that I got their stamp of approval that day. Maybe her constant lateness wasn’t all that bad.

The next episode of tardiness would be an unforgettable one. She was late to the surprise party she threw me. Let’s emphasise the surprise part. She did do everything right. Conspired with my friends. Surreptitiously ordered a cake. Decorated the place after kicking me out of my own apartment. All except for the fact that when I got back, she wasn’t there. Though seeing 20 people trying and failing miserably to hide in my tiny apartment was definitely a surprise. I’d give her credit for that.

Apparently five minutes before I got home, she realised she forgot to pick up the cake. I did tell her I’d be back in five when she called to check. The guests were waiting for her to come back when I showed up. Looking back, they were probably more shocked than I was. Before Dani got back with the cake, we decided to reverse the plan on her. Together with the rest of the party, we shouted ‘SURPRISE’ as she walked through the door. Dani’s face was as white as a sheet and the cake went flying. It was a good birthday.

The next bout of lateness came later. Over the years, I considered several solutions to help combat her constant lateness. Did try carrying out one too, though that did not end well. For the Christmas of 2012, it was our turn to host the annual family Christmas party. For the first time, loved ones from both our families would be coming over. Needless to say, both Dani and I were running around like headless chickens trying to prepare everything in time.

We had a game plan. Dani was in charge of the cooking and I would be the one to make the house look all festive. Ten minutes in, her nervousness about tonight caused her to almost burn down the kitchen. Quickly, we decided this wasn’t working and switched roles. I had barely any experience in the kitchen unless you count undercooked eggs and semi-edible ramen. Even so, with my trust in her cooking skills wavering, I handed her the Christmas lights and made my way to the kitchen.

By and large, I would say that we managed to put together a pretty nice party. With my mom providing precise instructions over the phone, I was able to serve up dishes with some semblance of a proper Christmas dinner. In my defence, everything was edible though no one could vouch for the taste. However, Dani did a good job with the decorations. Her cousins came over early to set up the tree and with a lot of help, everything was done right before the first guests arrived.

After dinner came the gift-giving. The kids scrambled to the living room where all the presents were piled up under the tree. As the kids were tearing open their presents, the adults started exchanging gifts. It could go terribly wrong but as Dani was already unwrapping the small, turquoise box, it was already too late.

At first, she was silent. Too silent. Right then, her sister saw the present and couldn’t contain her spluttering laughter. Soon, curious family members caught a glimpse of Dani’s gift and all began laughing; Dani’s lateness was a running joke in the family.

After her initial shock faded, she shook her head and burst out laughing. I put on the midnight coloured watch on her wrist and exclaimed how well it complimented her. She pushed me jokingly with a laugh, her eyes twinkling in amusement. I was just happy I wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch that night.

When she found out what I did to the watch though, she wasn’t as amused. We were supposed to meet some friends for coffee and as per usual, Dani was running late. Amid conversation, Dani plopped down beside me and started apologising for being 20 minutes late.

“Dani, it’s fine. It’s not like it’s the first time,” Winnie said, teasingly.

“It’s only by ten minutes though, not twenty,” Jacob commented, checking his watch.

“Huh?” Dani glanced at her watch. “Isn’t it 3:24?”

“It’s 3:14. Check your phone,” Winnie suggested.

Dani pulled out her phone to check the time, something she does infrequently.

“You’re right,” Dani stated, puzzled.

“I guess your watch is running a little fast,” Jacob said.

“Yea, but why…” Dani started.

A sudden realisation on dawned her as she registered my silence throughout the conversation.

“Mike, you didn’t mess with the watch, did you?” She asked.

I smiled sheepishly and tried to explain but she cut me off and proceeded to ignore me for the rest of the day. It’s safe to say that the couch awaited me that night.

Dani’s chronic lateness was an inconvenience at the start but after a while, I chose to embrace it. Rest assured after that watch incident I wasn’t going to try anything like that again. After a couple months, I got used to it and it was my new normal. Most people were also really understanding after she explained her job. She’s an on-call ER nurse with crazy work hours. Her hospital didn’t have enough nurses so shifts were long and the majority of nurses were always on-call. Her parents and I asked her to switch to another hospital but she wouldn’t have any of it. Her argument always was that they already had a shortage of nurses, and she wouldn’t be the cause of any more problems.

I admired her loyalty and was really proud of her but every time I saw her gone before I got up, I wished she made a different choice. Especially when I look back and think about our time together. It’s been five years. When we were together, she always kept me waiting. I could understand that, or at least try to but there’s one thing I can’t, and never will.

If she was late to everything, why did she leave so early?