I am always late. I don’t think that I’ve been on time for anything, especially if it was something important. The excuses were invariably the best. None of this “my car wouldn’t start,” or “the alarm didn’t go off,” crap for me. I could always come up with something better. Like when my roommate didn’t pay the PG&E bill and the power was turned off. The time when I found out that Papi was in the hospital after having been hit by a chunk of falling rebar. Then, the incident with the missing cat, and, oh yeah, that time when a water pipe broke and flooded my apartment. And of course the time when I was locked in Forum building west. That was the coup de grace, by far my finest work. I was late to my own wedding rehearsal. But hey, it was only forty-eight minutes. What does that matter in the grand scheme of time? Today though, it's a bit different. I, am actually early.
Today I took no two-hour shower, no drawn out bathroom session. I didn't rush my shave, no elaborate hair maintenance, and no debate over what to wear. I was prepared.
A perfect, close shave with no nicks, no blood to absorb with tissue. My hair was “bam,” not one single hair out of place, no vivacious cowlick to fight, just the right amount of body, volume and stiffness. I’m impressed. My best outfit is laid out; matched, not clashing, with no visible wrinkles, no pulled from the laundry pile aroma. A stench today would be bad. The clothes must fit the man and in that vein I have always felt that the outfit must fit the occasion. Just a bit of anal-retentiveness in regards to that one. For me it's just one of those things, like not wearing entirely white ensembles, now I'm not talking about the 'no white after Labor Day' kind of fashion adages, no one should wear white outfits, period. The solid white look is reserved for two locations: weddings and heaven. In the same way that solid black attire is expressly for the utilization of Johnny Cash and mourners. Today, is definitely a suit and tie day.
I usually don’t dress up, but since this is a special occasion, I figure it's warranted. I’ve always gone with the stylish look or something spicy. For my prom it was the teal coat and white pants from the Miami Vice tuxedo collection. If you saw the pictures you'd laugh as much I did in reflecting upon that choice. Luckily my date was wearing a white gown. And speaking of white gowns, for my wedding it was the funky paisley tie and cummerbund to give that extra little splash. Once again the woman opposite me was wearing all white. I got really lucky both times, since those two poorly chosen ensembles clearly would've clashed with anything other than white. I guess that means I have to retract my statement about all white, since it has kept me fashionable on more than one occasion. Today though, is a bit formal, so I'm wearing the typical dark suit, light shirt and dark tie.
The suit isn’t black; it's more of a charcoal or gunmetal gray. The shirt: "bone." The tie: "midnight ebony." It gives a traditional impression and since I’ll be in the open, with all eyes on me, I think it's the right image. Enough with small details, no one really cares about my outfit, I guess I’m just obsessing. I look good, or as good as I ever have. So, like I said, I'm early. That means I can take a bit of a more leisurely drive. Not like my usual travel.
No maniacal weaving from lane to lane, cursing at the moronic drivers on the roads, trying to make up a few precious minutes. It's really hard to stop and realize that you're not actually late until it's actually past the time that you should have arrived. Talk about high blood pressure, I was always in a rush, even if I wasn’t late yet. The imminent tardiness was enough to throw me into frenzy and since I'm always late, the panic was persistent. I'd respond by pushing the car to the limits of what it could accomplish. RPM's were rising; the gas mileage must have been terrible, since the majority was not only city driving but also, stop…go…floor it…slam on the breaks…system of driving. If I have ever passed you on the roads I know you've thought, "there goes one of those fucking idiots." Just another accident waiting to happen or maybe even a dead man driving. And the cars I drove never helped my image.
