William Shakespeare once said “better three hours too soon than a minute too late.”

And I agree, as one of my pet hates is people being late, whether it’s for an appointment, a catch up, a lift or a night out.

Time is very precious and shouldn’t be wasted, and if you’ve got an excuse then it had better be a good one.

However, as I discovered, the reasons people are late are varied and surprisingly creative.

“So…… sorry Janice but it wasn’t my fault,” my pal Fiona tried to explain why she was over an hour late to pick me up for our lunch date.

“There were diversions on the motorway and I ended up travelling in the wrong direction.”

Fiona looked rather stressed and out of puff so I decided it was best not to give her a hard time for keeping me waiting an hour.

“You know I’m not normally late,” she attempted to explain.

“Mostly because my boss is a real stickler for timekeeping.”

I nodded as she continued.

“However last week apparently he didn’t have his glasses on when fumbling in his bedside drawer for paracetamol.”

I wondered what painkillers could possibly have to do with timekeeping.

“It was only when he was in the shower he realised his mistake.”

“Mistake?” I was intrigued.

“Yes, the idiot swished down two sleeping tablets instead of paracetamol and started swaying all over the place.”

“Oh no,” I sighed.

“He had to go back to bed and didn’t make it into work until lunchtime.”

“Now that is late,” I agreed.

“And even then he had to go and lie down in the back of the shop for most of the afternoon.” Fiona nervously laughed, hoping that her boss’s poor timekeeping made her lateness seem not so bad.

Bringing up the subject at work, my colleague Sheila told me about a brilliant deal her and three walking group friends got on their train fare for a weekend trip walking around the lakes to de-stress.

“Although it was a non-transferable fare Janice.” She explained.

“It was only £30 each way from Glasgow to York.”

“And we were travelling first class!” She enthused.

However, on the day of travel apparently it was chucking it down so Sheila decided that rather than arriving completely drookit for their journey, she would book a taxi.

“And after all……..”

Sheila suddenly had an air of grandiose about her.

“We were travelling first class.”

“And……… a taxi would save us a lot of time.”

I nodded in agreement as her tone changed somewhat.

“But,” She puffed.

“The bloody taxi failed to turn up on time, and first class tickets or not, the train pulled out of the station just as we scrambled on to the platform.”

However, since the hotel was booked and they were meeting other walkers, Sheila and her friends had no option but to buy themselves more train tickets.

“It then cost us another £75 each way,” she bleated.

“And that wasn’t even first class!”

“So much for saving precious time getting a taxi, because arriving late cost us a small fortune.”

To top that, according to Sheila, every morning as she waited to set off on a walk, somebody in the group turned up late.

“By the time we set off we were blue with the cold hanging about waiting.”

I was hoping that Sheila’s de-stressing weekend would have taken a turn for the better but….

“Returning home I was taking no chances this time Janice and booked the taxi half to the station an hour earlier than we needed.”

This sounded like a good I idea to me, but I said nothing as I suspected there was more to come.

“Nervously I phoned the taxi company twice as it was nowhere in sight and time was marching on.”

“It’s on its way,” Sheila was assured.

“Looking out of our bedroom window, finally we spotted it at the end of the road and headed downstairs when Joan insisted she paid one last visit to the toilet.”

Sheila was now sounding quite agitated.

“But when she tried to open the toilet door, we discovered that the lock was faulty and it wouldn’t open.”

Sheila phoned reception whilst the taxi tooted outside, but as luck would have it (her luck), there was no one manning reception.

“Well Janice what could I do?”

I had two friends sitting in the back of the taxi about to miss their train, Joan locked in the toilet whom I couldn’t abandon, so I had to let my friends carry on to catch their train.”

I was exhausted listening to Sheila.

“And by the Joan was freed from the toilet we missed yet another train and had to buy yet another set of tickets.”

And perhaps Shakespeare was right.

“Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.”