Always Late for a Funeral

It’s been a while since my last post. Many things have occurred. A lot of things were put into perspective as the new year approached. Not to worry, this is not a New Year’s resolution script. (That is planned to come on a later date). However, it must be said that one of my resolutions should be to be punctual.

The way I look at it is as such; since the beginning of time, I have always been late. It is known to never tell me the actual time of an event or an outing because it is already assumed I will be at least two hours late. Don’t get me wrong. This doesn’t pertain to work, just when it comes to social events. I have tried to change this bad habit on many occasions. I set my clocks 10 minutes faster, but because I know that, it gives me more reason to relax and take my time. When getting ready, I take showers and do my hair way in advance to save me an hour. However, I always come across a great show and get side tracked which delays my process.

There’s no hope. So I figured that I should just own that I am always going to be late, unless it’s super important, like a funeral or wedding (which I have been late to but by minutes… Like 20).

My favorite story to tell about being late is with Alaina. She has dealt with my lateness throughout our whole friendship. Girl got some patience… Pun intended. Alaina knows better that if I say I’ll be somewhere at 2pm, she knows to add four hours.

I guess she assumed that I wouldn’t be late to a scheduled movie at the theater. She thought wrong. Alaina was home from college and we made plans to go see My Sister’s Keeper. I told her that the movie started at 1:15pm. With my thought process, I figured it would be fine to get at the theater at 1:30pm because of the trailers. Lucky for me, Alaina is always on time or early.  She got there at 1pm, and to her surprise, the movie was scheduled at 12:40pm.  So she just got there in time for the movie. Oops!  And then I show up 40 minutes late (from 12:40pm), and everyone in the theater was sniffling and crying like crazy.  Unfortunately for Alaina, she had to cry in the corner watching the movie by herself because once again, I was late.  I found Alaina wiping her tears away and also trying to throw daggers my way with her death stares. As soon as I sat down, the tears started pouring out.  It is safe to say it was a very sad movie that I ended up watching three times.

This weekend would just add to my dilemma. I’ll start by saying it was not my fault.  Aside from my tardiness, I am notorious for being a bad traveler when it comes to trains and buses.  When I told Jenny about my escapades from Saturday, she wasn’t nearly as shocked as she would have been if I didn’t miss the bus.

It was well planned and I was on schedule.  Woke up at 5:30am to get ready to grab a train to Newark Penn Station by 7:20am.  Obviously, with my luck the train was running late.  Not to worry, my bus wasn’t leaving till 8:45am to Boston.  The train conductor tells me that I need to switch at Secaucus to get to Newark Penn.  Well because this train came into Secaucus late, I ended up missing the other train because there was only a momentary lapse to switch.  It didn’t help that the trains were running on a weekend schedule.  Now it’s 8:20am and I am stuck.  I could have taken a cab to the station but I probably wouldn’t make it.  I had one other option, go into the city and take the Chinatown bus, which was the last thing I wanted to do.

I’ve heard horror stories about those buses, but I felt that I could handle it.  So with one hour to spare until the Chinatown bus leaves, I had to grab another train to go into the city, cab it to Chinatown and hop on the bus.  Sounds like a lot of fun, right? To my surprise, I did it! On top of it, as I waited to board the bus, I watched a bunch of old Asian women synchronize dance in the park.  The only downside was that I am now 1.5 hours late to go to Boston.

Now just so it’s understood, a Chinatown bus doesn’t mean that it’s filled with a bunch of Asians. It just leaves from the area and the buses are run by a group of Asians.  It is well known that I am not a public bathroom person, so there is no shot I would go in the bus bathroom.  With all the hustling and bus’tling, I needed to chug my caffeine; an unfortunate occurrence for the next four hours.

Thank whatever higher power is trending to believe these days because after two hours we stopped. Where? At a Chinese buffet.  It was the oddest thing.  As I was leaving the bus, I noticed a stank of some sort as I was approaching the front of the bus.  I then look to my left and at the very front seat, there was a person with a bag over their head, some wetness on his/her pantaloons and smelled like straight up barf.  GROSS! I was mortified.  I am not to keen on bodily fluids, so I was distraught by the scene.

When I got back on the bus, it smelled like Chinese food because everyone got food for the ride.  To add to that, there was a guy behind me that was talking on his phone for an hour. I was beyond pissed because I was trying to watch me some Ryan Gosling. I turned around and gave him the death stare.  I think he got the hint.  But that didn’t stop him from clipping his finger nails. What is wrong with people? No common decency these days.  After a 4-hour torturous ride, I finally got to the beautiful city of Boston.

What I learned from this adventure? I am going to start flying to Boston to avoid this hell.

On aside:: It’s no secret I love old school R&B.  Recently, I was shown a rendition of Ginuwine’s Pony. That was one of my favorite songs growing up. Too bad I actually thought he was talking about ponies at age 8.  Take a listen…


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