This afternoon I was scheduled to change some locks for a gentleman that a regular client sent my way. As a favor to my client, I’d agreed to do the job at a deeply discounted rate. I gathered from his accent that he was Brazilian.

At 12:20 I called him to confirm the 1:00 appointment we’d set earlier in the week.

-I’m just leaving the gym. Can we change to 1:30? he asked.

-No, I said. I’m on a schedule. We can either cancel or stick to the time we agreed upon.

-Okay, he said. I’ll see you at 1:00.

The next time we spoke was at 1:05.

-I’m here. Are you coming? I ask.

-I’m just five or ten minutes away.

-You should know that I’m going to charge you extra for being late.

-What?! You didn’t tell me that.

-You didn’t tell me you were going to be late.

He arrived at 1:22, looking happy and relaxed.

I raced through the job to make sure I’d be able to make my 2:00 lockout, finishing with tons of time to spare. As I wrote up the bill, I thought about the extra charge I was going to tack on, and how he probably had a less rigid conception of time. I remembered living in Mexico and often feeling like I was in a completely different dimension. Those Salvador Dali paintings with the clocks melted and hanging across barren tree branches come to mind. It occurred to me that this might be what someone who values buzz words over grammar would call a “teachable moment”.

I approached the customer with the bill.

-Look, I said, I’m not going to charge you for making me wait all that time, but I AM going to give you an earful.

-What’s an earful?

-I’m going to scold you.

Immediately his posture and facial expression changed to that of a petulant teenager as he braced himself for what was coming. I proceeded into schoolmarm mode. It went something like this:

-When you show up over 20 minutes late to our appointment, it’s very rude. While I’m wasting time sitting in my hot van waiting for you, I’m not earning money. You’re enjoying your Saturday going to the gym on my time. Do you think this is where I want to be on a Saturday? What you did was inconsiderate, it wasted a bunch of my time, and it might cost me some work. But even worse than all that is that it’s insulting. What you’re telling me by showing up late is that your time is more important than mine. You asked me here to help you with your problem and you didn’t think it was necessary to show me the basic courtesy of being here when I arrived.

At this point he cut in to explain something about getting stuck in traffic.

-You know, I said, sometimes it’s not enough to say to yourself, I hope that traffic will be alright and I’ll get there on time. Instead you have to plan for the possibility that traffic will be bad so you don’t need to use it as an excuse. Your excuses don’t make this less rude. You weren’t even going to call me to say you were coming late. Not everyone is going to tell you this as bluntly as I am, but everyone is going to be thinking it. Showing up late like that is rude.

It went on like this until I got it all out. In the end, he apologized. Then we settled up, talked about carpet cleaners, exchanged some pleasantries, and shook hands.

It was only when I got to my van that I saw the clock. I’d spent so much time scolding him that I was late for my 2:00 appointment.