Better late than never? Better never late

I was once helping a chief purser write a flight report. Then she stopped. "Is it ‘We were late for five minutes,’ or ‘We were late by five minutes’?"

"Ugh, I honestly do not know," I said. I then asked our Brit boss, who was sitting next to me, what preposition was appropriate.

"It depends," he said. "But why not simply write, ‘We were five minutes late’?"

"Why not make it even simpler and write, ‘We were on time’? It will save you from writing the reason. Who will notice five minutes?" I teased.

"I will," said the Japanese beside me.

That is how things are in the airline world. Everything is timed and noted down. That is why I refuse to wear a watch when I am not working. I wake up, eat, and sleep when I want to. There are days I can stay in bed until my stomach grumbles for lunch. But working in an airline is very good training for Filipinos who are often late, especially compared to the Japanese.

Once, in 1985, I was in Tokyo with my parents and my late husband, Vic Bailon, for the Expo. Our shuttle back to the hotel was five minutes behind schedule. The hotel staff assisting us was very worried and apologetic. He was in constant contact with the bus driver by CB radio. (There were no cell phones then.) He was prancing up and down like a husband waiting for his wife to give birth.

Then he offered us Mild 7 cigarettes. When we refused, he ran to the nearby vendo machine and bought us sodas. "Cola, cola, please," he persistently offered us.

I later understood that by accepting his offer of cigarettes and cola we were accepting his apology.

"No, let us pretend to be really upset, so he buys us Japanese cheesecake," I said, trying to be amusing to my family. From where we were standing, I could see my favorite but expensive yellow, fluffy and light cheesecake. (Bread Talk in Glorietta has something similar.)

My dad took pity on our guide. He smiled, took one cola and said, "It is okay. We are from the Philippines, and we consider five minutes to be early."

The relieved Japanese gave him a big smile. I am not sure if he understood what my dad said, or if he was just so happy we all got his colas. If only he knew that back home, our buses only leave when all seats are taken. "Alas puno," our Pinoy drivers call it.

No one wants to be made to wait, or, worse, to be stood up. When icon and sports demigod Manny Pacquiao did not show up for his interview with the popular and well-respected Teodoro Benigno, the latter was naturally very mad and walked out. He later pounded out a story on his computer. Some things Benigno wrote about Pacquiao surprised me. The same day it saw print, Manny and his wife, Jinky, called him, humbly apologizing and explaining. The pen is mightier than the fist, so it seems.

A friend, who also (often) walks out, justifies his walking out as the reality of life. "The weak wait for the strong, the poor for the rich, the unknown for the celebrity, the subordinate for the boss. Never the other way around," he said. And yes, he is damn right. Only hypocrites will disagree with him. But we will always wait for friends and family. In good friendships, nobody enjoys special privileges. It does not matter who needs whom and who has more in the pocket.

The following day, I experienced something similar to what Mr. Benigno went through. I went to Manila on the invitation of a friend, but she completely forgot our date – and it was her idea that we meet up because she wanted to brainstorm on her new project. "Ah, this is good," I thought. "I can have uninterrupted time for myself." I took out my copy of the Philippine STAR, my book on President Clinton, and had two cups of great coffee – Figaro, that is. And for three hours, I enjoyed the comforts of an air-con room without having to worry about the electric bill. How could I complain? I had a coffee break many could only wish for. Time passed so fast until I had to leave to join friends for dinner.

When Claude heard about my experience, he was very upset. He could not understand why I was not upset.

"But I did not wait," I insisted. Days later, probably because of old age (he will surely refute this), Claude himself missed two appointments in Manila, one with a hotel PR and the other with a client. He completely forgot both appointments until they called.

"Really, God has a way of making us understand things," I teased him. He was ever grateful that the two ladies he was supposed to meet that day were gracious and understood him.

From Figaro, I hopped to a restaurant to join my friends. I was 10 minutes early. I took out my Tungsten palm pilot, my best friend-in-waiting. I started to type "Better late than never, but better never late."

A friend arrived 25 minutes later. She saw me sitting alone and remarked, "I thought I was late," and rushed to the bookstore across.

I wanted to tell her she was indeed late, but she was gone too fast. I guess what she actually meant was, "I am not the only one late," or "Someone is later than me."

Another friend showed up 40 minutes late and said, "I am sorry to be a bit late."

A bit? By then, I had done six paragraphs with my friend Tungsten.

A third friend did not show up at all. It does seem that Filipino time means it is okay to be 30 minutes late, while 15 minutes is on time, and less than that is considered early. I could only smile as I put Tungsten aside. I always prefer old-time friends to new ones.

With my Hong Kong pals, we do it quite differently. We never get agitated while waiting because we always assume no one wants to be late, and that one is only late for a very good and valid reason. But if you do show up late, you must treat everyone. Come late and pay for all! It works well for all of us. Sometimes, we even wish one of us would come late. But never, never.