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I hate being late. I hate when people are late. I find it a profound form of disrespect. I get really annoyed when I’m standing at the doorstep, ready to leave, and my wife, for whatever reason, delays our departure. Or when we’re given a specific meeting time and discover that the person we’re waiting for—even just for a cocktail and dinner—is half an hour late and only bothers to let us know a…
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