Tardy Is So Terribly Unbecoming

I get myself worked into a tizzy (the bad kind, not the good) when things don't go as planned. If I'm to be flexible on any schedule, I actually have to plan for it. Made plans with a tardy friend? I've got plans B, C and D, lined up in my head. Bottom line: I'm an absolute nut about this kind of stuff and it's straight up unhealthy. As a result, right now, for example, the area from my upper nape down the length of my shoulder blades is one hard solid rock. No matter which way I bend my neck to stretch some of the tight muscles, it's to no avail.

So when the caterer arrived forty frickin' three minutes late today to set up for a really really really really really important recruitment reception, I was beyond the point of return. When a staff member notified me that they had finally arrived, I walked into the room not knowing how to control my wrath. The caterer was rushing around the conference room frantically setting up linens, wine glasses, and food. I silently walked up to him, waited until he stood still in his tracks, made eye contact with him, and calmly stated, "You were supposed to be here at 2." Silence. "And it's 2:45 right now." He offered neither an explanation nor an apology. Instead, he managed to weakly squeak out a pathetic "I'll have everything set up in time for your event." Stone-faced, I stepped back to within a few feet from the entrance of the room, crossed my arms, and silently watched his every move like a hawk for the rest of the prep. The other staff member stood frozen next to me, not knowing whether she should help the caterer or stay still. Then I realized the invoice included items we didn't order. I ordered the caterer to fix it. That's when she knew to stand still.

After the event, she amusingly commented, "I think you scared him." To which I replied, "Yeah, he should have been on time."