People who know me understand that I’m late.
It’s called “Hawaiian Time”, although I’m not sure how that term originated. If you ever go to Hawaii, you’ll notice that not many people wear watches. They’re uncomfortable, and they don’t wear well at a beach (which you’re at almost every day).
So maybe that’s how the term began. Hawaiian Time means that if you’re invited to a function that begins at 7 o’clock, you can pretty much guarantee that the soirée won’t start until 7:20, maybe 7:30…. heck, maybe 8 o’clock.
My dad used to work in construction in Hawaii and would always have some good stories about the locals showing up an hour late to work and thinking nothing of it. If you want someone to show up at 7 o’clock, tell ’em 6:15.
So lately I’ve been doing a lot of catering, and it always seems as if we’re ten minutes late.
Today, we had a luncheon to cater at 11:15 a.m. I love schedules / lists / agendas, so I created a to-do list with the timing of everything that needed to be done.
We still showed up ten minutes late. Mind you, the food was perfect, the presentation was awesome (got a lot of “wow”‘s) and I’m sure they enjoyed everything.
But still. Ten minutes late.
Whitey made the comment that we should have a subsidiary called “Two Girls Catering” (meaning me and Kristen). I think it should be called “Hawaiian Time Catering”. If you want it there at noon, tell us 11:30.
I’ll put that in fine print at the bottom of the bid.