Race Against Time

“I will not wait a minute after 6 pm. Not a minute, you hear me?” said the woman on the phone.

“You won’t have to. I will be on time, if not before,” Mark replied while shuffling through the files on his desk.

“Like the time you were on my birthday? Or your birthday?”

“Okay okay, easy with the sarcasm. See you at 6. Love you,” he said before hanging up the phone. His focus was turned back to the computer he was working on. 

Mark finished his work an hour early to have enough time to reach home and get ready before leaving for dinner. He had spent days planning the dinner and aligned his work accordingly to avoid being late, again. Alyssa, his girlfriend, always complained about him being late for everything. She managed to be on time all the time, even when she doesn’t want to. Meanwhile, he had a way of being late, always. But this time he planned ahead. 

He had turned his computer off, ready to leave when one of his colleagues stopped by his cube.

“Hey, Mark. Busy? I am so sorry for bothering you. I have been trying to make sense of this file for an hour but no luck. Can you please look at it and see if the numbers add up?”

“I- yeah, sure,” he said hesitantly. He was still ahead of time, a few minutes won’t hurt. 

“Thank you, we know we can always count on you,” she smiled.

“Of course, Charlotte,” he smiled back. 

By the time Mark finished his work it was already half past 4. No more time to spare. He picked up his stuff and dropped the file to her cube on his way to the elevator, avoiding being given any more tasks. 

Once out of the elevator, Mark paced toward his car. 

“Mark,” called a man before he could enter the car. 

He turned back to find his boss standing near the elevator. Encounters with the boss were rare and never looked forward to. He always came bearing unpleasantness. Colors drained from his face. Not today. Please. 

“I was just coming to you, good thing I found you here. Saved me from wasting extra energy,” he laughed. Mark followed his lead and let out a fake laugh too. Two years in this company had turned him into a professional fake laugher. A valuable skill to put on his resume.  

“The delivery from Boston arrived early. It is waiting to be received by strong arms. Now, my arms would have been perfect if I weren’t the boss,” he raised his arms. “But I am. So, I am honoring you to do the task,”.

“But Boss I-,” he looked at his watch. 

“It is not going to take more than fifteen minutes,” the boss replied as he entered the elevator before Mark could reply. 

Accepting the fact that the faster he leaves the sooner he will be able to get home, he got in the car and left immediately for the delivery. 

The post office was less crowded than Mark anticipated. All he had to do was go in, get the delivery, drop it off at the office, and leave. He could still make it on time. 

There were two customers ahead of him in the line. He stood there anxious, constantly checking his watch. As the last customer left the line, a weak looking old man cut in front of Mark. Running out of patience, he approached the old man. 

“Excuse me, Sir, there is a line,” he said politely. 

“Yes,” the old man replied.

“Hmm, I was here before you,”. 

“Yes,” he replied again and turned to the counter ignoring him. Mark frowned in confusion. 

“Just a minute, Sir. It won’t take long,” the woman at the counter said. Mark sighed. 

Every passing minute increased Mark’s anxiety. The old man finally left after what felt like an eternity. His hand was empty. Turns out he was at the wrong place and was wasting everyone’s time. Mark received the package. His phone rang as he headed towards the exit. 

“Just received a package. I am on my way,” Mark said. 

“Do not forget the caramel frappuccino with whipped cream and no sugar,” the boss said on the phone. 

“You didn’t say anything about a frappuccino,”

“I just did. Is there any problem?” he replied and hung up the phone. 

Mark stared at the phone. He wanted nothing more than to throw it at his boss’s face and of course to reach the hotel on time. He looked at his watch, 5:15 pm. Shit. He ran to the coffee shop across the road. 

He balanced the package in one hand and picked up the frappuccino in another. From the corner of his eyes, he saw something moving. His car. 

“No. No, no, no,” he ran but his car was already towed. 

“Seriously God? Seriously? You think this is funny?” he looked up accusingly and began his search for a cab. After several frustrating failed attempts to get a cab to stop, he finally succeeded. 

“Excuse me, can you please help me with this?” a woman said, trying to push the baby stroller.

The baby stared at him as if pleading for help. He could not say no to that face. While he helped the woman pick up the stroller, another man got in his cab and left. 

“That is my-,” he ran for the cab as it took off with another passenger. 

Mark looked up at the sky again, “Having fun aren’t you?” 

It was 5:45 pm when he reached the office and ran to deliver the package. There was no time to get ready. There was no time for anything. The plan was to get to the hotel directly. He dropped the package and handed over the frappuccino to his boss. 

“Ahh, Marky Mark. I said ‘no sugar’. This does not taste like ‘no sugar’,” he lifted the cup in the air. 

Mark could feel the last drop of patience leaving his body. 

“Can you place the order for another frappuccino before leaving?” the boss asked in a tone which implied it was an order, not a request. 

“No,” said Mark. 

“What did you say?” 

“I said no, I cannot,” he replied and turned to leave. He stopped and turned back to face his boss again. He snatched the cup from his hand and threw it in the trash can before storming towards the elevator. 

“Hey Mark, the file that-,” he heard Charlotte call out.

“NO,” he yelled and left the office. 

There were only 10 minutes left. There was no way he could make it on time, not without his car. He kept running until he spotted a kid with a cycle and handed all the cash he had on himself in exchange for the cycle. He loosened his tie and took off like his life was on stake. 

He entered the hotel, his feet feeling numb. It was 6:05 pm. A sense of pride took over him for reaching his destination in twenty minutes. But it was soon replaced by the realization that Alyssa might not even be here. She was stern about not having to wait this time. He ran his hand through his wrinkled suit and started towards his destination. 

Alyssa looked at her watch and called the waiter for the bill. 

“That will not be necessary,” Mark arrived, panting. He took her hand and walked her to the dance floor. 

“Before you start hitting me with taunts, I have my reasons, I-,” Mark said.

“It’s 6,” Alyssa interrupted.

“What?” Mark looked at his watch. It was 6:10. 

“It’s 6” Alyssa showed her watch to him. It was 6:00. 

He frowned in confusion before he realized what was happening. 

“Your watch is slower than the actual time,”

“It always is,” she replied. 

“You knew-” 

“That you were going to be late? Yes,” she raised her eyebrows. 

He put his forehead against her, “sorry for making you wait,”.

“You are worth the wait,” she smiled.