As a side-note. The unilateral introduction of the ‘If i finish my first drink and you’re not here, I walk’ rule helped.
Unless I needed to see you for some reason.
Did you have Mr. Fashant also? “To be early is to be on time, to be on time is to be late!” Heaven forbid we were a minute late - we would then have to run laps around the marching band.
[QUOTE]
[QUOTE=Mycroft Holmes
That’s how things work in Brazil.[/QUOTE]
Actually I didn’t see any work getting done at all. Must be nice to have absolutely nothing to do.
Yeah … I too am always prompt, and appreciate when other people are, but I don’t get people who are always in a hurry for the sake of being in a hurry. When I’m standing in line at the subway ticket counter with my kid, why do peope push in front of us so they can GET ON THE SAME DAMN TRAIN as we are THAT’S LEAVING AT THE SAME DAMN TIME?
Sweet, I’m moving to New Mexico. I’ve never been on time for anything in my life.
(Okay, except planes. The stress of actually trying to get somewhere on time is an unusual and painful experience, though. Just thinking about airports makes me nervous.)
Thank Og I don’t have a car. I learned to drive in NJ, and I’m fairly certain I’d end up getting arrested for something horrible if I did much driving out here. But, yeah - the passing lane? It’s for passing. Not cruising along slowly. You can take your time, but get out of my way.
I think all marching band directors learn that line at some point.
My dad was also in marching band, so even before I started it I was early for everything.
I have a good friend who is nowhere near as punctual as I am… usually when we go out my other friend picks him up first, and as a result they’re never at my house when they say they will be. Sigh.
[QUOTE=Contrapuntal]
You’d be surprised at how little work actually gets done in Brazil. I remember staying in my mother-in-laws apartment while they were building a house across the street. This is how that went:
The bricklayers (four of them) would show up sometime between 10AM and noon, and they would start laying some bricks. After about twenty or thirty bricks (in total, not each!), they would stop for a cigarette break. That cigarette break would last about an hour. Then they would have lunch which would take another hour. Then they would get back to work, and after another thirty bricks they would have another cigarette break, followed by some beer (it’s hot and they were thirsty). At that point the afternoon rains would start, so that meant no work for the next hour. Then they would lay another thirty bricks, until it was time to go home.
In the two weeks I was there, the walls of the house (which was not that big) had grown by an incredible two feet. I kid you not! Of course, these are just generalizations and don’t apply to all Brazilians. There are hard-working people in Brazil also, especially in the South. But the Northern and North-Eastern Brazilians are very well known (even in Brazil) for being lazy sons of bitches.
My uncle had his own company in Brazil, and he said the hardest thing for him was actually finding reliable, hard-working employees. He said most people would call in sick on Mondays (too much partying on the weekend) and then call in sick again on Tuesday because they hadn’t worked on Monday so they went out again. This was for a job that payed well by Brazilian standards. He said that those that did work hard went on to become very successful (sometimes starting their own companies), but the majority just didn’t really give a shit. As long as they had enough money for beer and food, they didn’t care.
<high-fives NinjaChick>
Oh, that chaps my ass so bad, too. Whenever I need to be somewhere at a specific time, I try to get there at least 5 minutes early. I think it’s rude as hell to make someone wait.
And one of the reasons SWMBO and I are not big social animals anymore is because of people that would invite us over for a houseparty at 7:00 and then be surprised as hell when we actually showed up at 7:00, instead of being “fashionably late” and arriving at 7:30. Or we would invite folks over at 7:00 and sit with our thumbs up our butts for half an hour or more waiting on them.
I used to be a total time-nazi. I still always show up on time (usually early, actually) if I’ve got to be somewhere, but I was forced to quit freaking out when other people are late.
For starters, most of my family is habitually late. My parents are very punctual (must be where I get it from), but my brother’s family and my aunts, whom I spend a good amount of time with, probably couldn’t manage to be on time if their very lives depended on it. My BF is also chronically late.
So, it pretty much came down to forcing myself to chill out or having a nervous break-down. Whenever I’m meeting someone I know isn’t going to be on time (family or the BF), I take my sweet-ass time. That way I can’t be pissed that they’re late because hey, I’m late too! It’s a bit liberating, actually.
My BF and I just had to compromise. If he says 9:00, he and I both know he gets until 9:30 before I officially become annoyed. If it’s past 9:45 then he’d better come bearing gifts if he values his life. If he’s not sure when he’s going to make it, then he gives me a 2 hour guestimate and calls me when he’s either on his way, or realizes it’s going to be longer.
Like Trunk said, sometimes you just gotta tap into the vibe, if you value your sanity…
I make a point of always being on time but after 20 years of living in Texas, first in Austin and now in rural BFE, I hate hurrying.
Why rush through life?
Normally, I can get a good day’s work done without feeling like a hamster madly spinning its wheel.
Moving at warp speed when you live in the country is pretty pointless and can actually be determental.
If I drive too quickly down the local roads, I run the risk of either hitting a loose cow or deer and being squashed or turning a turtle or squirrel into road pie.
Not to mention, that I’d miss all the sights along the way-the blue heron in the pond, the fawn standing in a patch of wildflowers or the calves racing each other along the fence.
When I buy feed, I like spending the extra 5 minutes catching up with the store owners on their lives.
The woman that runs the local pizza joint and I often get a good rant on about national politics while she cooks my food.
Of course, if I need to pick up a bag of oats after closing, the feed store will leave one out on the loading dock because they know me and trust that I’m good for it.
If I’m desperate for a double cheese and pepperoni-mushroom, Kelly throws one in and stays open extra 20 minutes for me.
If you get in a hurry while working cows or horses, you’ll only get totally frustrated.
Somehow they seem to sense when you’ve got a strict time agenda and collaberate to do exactly the opposite of what you’re trying to accomplish.
The faster you move, the slower they go.
I don’t dawdle but I don’t try to get through everything at a frantic pace either, like I used to when I lived in the city.
I live in Washington state and cannot abide being late or tardiness from others. I’m usually about 10 to 15 minutes early. My husband, on the other hand, who was born and raised here, is almost impossible to get out the door on time.
I can understand someone being late because he or she was held up in traffic or something; but not because he or she just couldn’t bothered to move.
I have some friends who are consistently late. We invite them for dinner at 6:00, they show up at 6:30. It drives me insane. They live TWO FRIGGIN’ BLOCKS away.
Sigh…I just don’t get it.
Tell me about it. While I’m a “time-keeper” myself, I see no need to push my way onto an airplane. :rolleyes:
But driving… I love to drive. Love it. It is not a bother, it’s a pleasure. I once drove over 300 miles (round trip) to see a movie, my wife and I take Sunday drives, looking at homes, the mountains, people.
But, you know, just get out of my way, please? Here in Knoxville the entire city drives as if they have nowhere to go and all the time in the world to get there. Unlike Atlanta, Nashville, NYC, DC, Boston, this is a city for the driving-challenged. Prefer making left-hand turns from the right lane on a four-lane road? Prefer slamming your car to a stop at yellow lights? Knoxville is the place for you!
No other city is quite like this, and I’ve driven all around the country. :mad: :mad:
I’m in the “Be there on time” camp. Maybe growing up in New York had something to do with it. Being late occasionally is OK, because things do happen. Maybe you got stuck in traffic, or something needed to be done at the last minute, there are legit excuses. However, to make people wait on you for no reason is rude and disrespectful. It says that the world revolves around you and their time (which could have been put to better use) is unimportant.
Many times, it seems to be a “control issue”. I know people who are all about making you hurry up, because they want you to jump. Then you stand there like a moron, because now they are making you wait on them while they bullshit with someone, gab on the phone, check their email etc.
Then there are those who call a meeting and are late, in an obvious power ploy. “I’m more powerful and important than you, so I will reinforce this by forcing you all to wait for me”.
The worst and most infuriating part of it is, if you call them on it, you are an asshole (?).
My stance has grown more hardline over the years. Anymore, my feeling is, if you can’t be on time, or reasonably close, don’t bother me at all. I have better things to do.
[QUOTE=Contrapuntal]
That’s what I thought of. The French can madate a 35 hour work week if they want, and the Brazilians can have their own sense of time, but it does impact them economically. It’s not a coincidence that the countries that have dominated the world economically have the Germnan/Swiss/Japanese sense of work and design and time.
Of course, you can then argue that these countries are slaves to their jobs and don’t know how to really enjoy their lives.
So the whole thing ends up being unresolvable, because both sides are inherently valuing different things. The inability to reach those goals frustrates them. You never end with the argument, though, because it’s not a conclusion reached on pure logic. They like and value what they want, and yelling is not going to change either side.
Fünf Minuten vor der Zeit
Ist der Soldatenspunklichkeit.
EH…
Minutes…hours…two small a unit of measure to bother with. I get there when I do.
Which is why the French are repealling the 35 hour limit.
Me too. With a little forthought and planning, there is no need to hurry, because you are on time.