For the week that’s in it.
We have one – yes, ONE! – Expedition Emerald watch from Huguenot Horology, a ‘fully-Irish’ watch company founded by cousins Jack Daly and Henry Roe offering vintage and classic designs and using over 15% of recycled materials, to give away.
Inspired by the aviator chronographs of the 1950s, the Expedition Emerald is “unapologetically vintage in aesthetic yet modern in construction”. Each Expedition uses the “premium Citizen-Miyota OS21 movement” and features dual 24-hour/60-minute sub dials and “the classic 38 mm case has 50 meters water resistance and protected by a domed hardlex mineral crystal”.
To enter, please tell us how long you will wait for someone for a date or appointment before assuming you have been stood up.
Lines must close at 4.45pm sharp.
Previously: Tick Tock Stars
Thanks Alan Bracken
I’d say 30 minutes would be about enough time. In this day and age with always on communications, if someone hasn’t at the very least called or sent a text message via one of the many channels it’s safe to say they are either dead or disinterested.
30 mins, longer if I’ve a full pint in front of me.
For appointments; I cannot abide
those whose lateness is not justified.
But if it’s a date,
I’ll hang ‘round and wait
If I think there’s a chance of a ride.
Oh Phallus :-)))
17 minutes without a text or call.
Running late on people is a test people pull to see where you are on the pecking order. A tale as old as time.
on my wedding day, i had the lads primed to play bob marley’s ‘waiting in vain’ as mrs scottser came down the aisle. i got the call that she was outside and the lads kicked in to the tune – all good.
no sign of the missis so the lads start the tune over again.
and again.
and again.
the missis has some manner of dress malfunction outside requiring emergency surgery and left us all inside sweating on what was the hottest day of the year for about 25 minutes. as the lads went into ‘waiting in vain’ for about the sixth time, any humour in the choice of entrance song was lost along with both my patience and my deodorant’s ability to keep up with an irish june bank holiday monday. so my answer, in purely chronological terms, is about 30 minutes with the caveat that this has not actually been verified.
she was a vision coming down the aisle though.
15 minutes before I go around telling everybody;
‘I’m after being stood-up, did that ever happen to you?’
Hoping to turn some craic out of the situation.
I did it before once after being stood-up. Got to speak to some lovely people, everyone empathised. We’ve all been there.
Not so much with phones now, but still happens.
Turned out to be a good laugh. I had mixed up the dates.
15 minutes to half an hour then go milk-it!
Happy days
If they’re not already there
Waiting on me
Then I know I’m getting a ‘fifty
And since I’m admitting to being a very poor timekeeper
I think I deserve the watch to help me mend my ways
what’s a fifty?
like a fifty bag of weed, a quick hand love, what?
Cork for getting stood up
She gave ‘im a fifty
no time like the present,
when your out your out,
another pint please!
Nice looking watch. Fair play to the lads.
Mr. T would wait up to 1 round hour before deciding he’s had enough. Someone can be late for all sorts of reason, speaking from experience.
But nobody is ever more than 1 hour late – if they were, they simply didnt care.
I arrive at five to, sit down, arrange my pen, notebook and phone on the desk, wipe a sweaty hand on my thigh, glance at the door, glance at the time, glance out the window, examine the carpet, study the walls, check the time, try to do a breathing exercise, fail to do a breathing exercise, sniff in an effort to make myself look superior and supercilious, sneeze, search for a tissue, fail to find a tissue, how could I have forgotten to bring some tissues, use a finger, hold my finger away from me in digust, drop my hand in case someone comes in and sees me looking at my finger, bang my hand on the desk, stifle a yelp of pain wave my hand around while groaning silently, notice the time, immediately sit straight, shut my mouth, fold my hands on my lap, try to look alert and attentive, hold the pose for thirty seconds, slump, put my hand under my armpit, lean bcak in my chair, lean back too far, the chair goes over, I fall back, my legs kick the table, the table goes over, I crash down on the carpet, roll over flat on my face, my hand still stuck up under my arm and somehow I can’t get it out so I lean my face on the carpet, moan with pain, lift my rump and try to get my feet up under me but they keep sliding on the carpet and that’s when the person I’m waiting for walks in.
Bravo, Nigel!
Oh Bravo indeed!
Back in 2012, I waited over an hour for my date to show up for our first date together. We were to meet in Solas on Camden Street and I was a bit uncomfortable waiting but it wasn’t terrible either having a couple of drinks and settling in a little. She arrived anyway and we had a great night. Fast forward 10 years and we will celebrate our 6th wedding anniversary this year and next month our twins’ first birthday.
And to think, if youd just have called it a night after an hour you would still be a happy man ;)
Imagine waiting for more than 5 minutes only to have them rock up with that ugly fecking thing on their wrist, would make them take it off before letting them give me a hand shandy.
I wait 10 minutes then split. If I’m still in town and they ring wondering where I am I make them wait about 15 minutes if I decide to return to the scene of their crime. If…
I just flirt with the next pretty girl after I feel 44 minutes has passed by
…I always have for emergencies a great joint or two on me, if someone is running late I simply step outside (in NY) light up smoke it, order an oat milk cappuccino and chill the f**k out,as fellow fans of the princess bride know true love does not, come by every day or hour,so I wait as I’m a hopeless romanic and I’ve already been waiting all my life for her……
To be honest, I just hope they don’t show up
In the 80s/90s, at least as long as it took me to get from home to the venue or 2 pints of Furstenberg
In the 90s/00s, as long as it took, I was just happy to be out
In the 10s/20s, meet at my house, their house, just to be sure and in case I needed the loo
I’m always always early so I always end up waiting for everyone, at least this would give me something pretty to look at while I fume about everyone else’s terrible time keeping.
I’m always precariously early so they’re always going to be late in my book :P
I’d find a seat, listen to a podcast (never leave home without earphones), give them about 20 mins, throw in another 5 mins for doubt. If they’re still not there I’d head off for a stroll and coffee as I’d be wrecked from sitting down so long
I always used to be the one who was late but made a big effort in the last 5-6 years to change that & be on time or early. I can’t remember what made me want to change my habits but I can now appreciate how everyone else felt waiting for me!
I’d give it an hour max but prob be fairly peeved by the time they arrived if it was that late!
I wonder does Huguenot Horology realise it is associating its brand with a Pro-Putin news website.
I would give it 30 minutes and then move on…
Easily waited over 2 hours. When you’re desperate you’ll do anything. Nothing better than sitting on steps of the central bank of a Friday night in the 80s watching the world go by. I love that watch though.
Ah, where did my little tale go? :(
Yeah, that was really funny!
Retrying this…
Many years ago, in the days before mobile phones, my mother and I travelled to Cork City from Dublin and made an arrangement to meet my aunt in front of Roches Stores on Patrick Street. This was a regular meeting spot of the Hatchet clan, as there was a café inside Roches Stores which had found favour with the thriftier members of the family.
One pot of tea would be ordered and paid for begrudgingly. The pot would be nursed for an hour and, once it had been emptied, a pot of hot water would be ordered. The hot water would be applied to the used tea bag, thereby extracting another waterier (but deliciously free) brew and allowing the drinker to remain in situ for another hour without spending a penny – the price they charge for a pot! They’re lucky we come in at all, boy.
The hot water would usually be provided without question, although occasionally a member of staff would raise a suspicious eyebrow. In answer, a baby would usually be selected from amongst the ranks of nieces and nephews and thrust upon them – she needs her bottle warmed girl! You wouldn’t charge a baby now would you? They always gave in.
This particular day was a miserable one. Horizontal rain laced with ice, driven by a wind that whipped around corners and slapped the breath out of your mouth before you could catch it.
Now something to understand about the Hatchets is that they all have an unusually dreadful sense of direction. Mammy Hatchet could get lost going up an escalator. I had been known to get lost coming out of toilet cubicles. One of her sisters once got so lost she entered East Berlin by mistake and wound up being interrogated by Stasi. The meeting place was therefore set in stone and there would be No Deviations. So when we arrived, soaked to the skin in the driving rain, there was no question that we would go indoors to warm up and keep watch through the window. No, this could lead to disaster. We would stand in one spot, outside in the rain, until my aunt arrived.
Those of you from Cork might recall that there where two pillars at the front of that building, connected by an overhang, all of which was perhaps 1.5ft deep. This was our only shelter and we made the very best of it. We huddled together beside a pillar, frozen backs pressed against the window behind, me clutching a soggy comic with red bobble hat slipping down low over my eyes with the weight of the water it had absorbed. Mammy Hatchet peeped out from underneath her dripping scarf, which she had wrapped around her hair in a vain attempt to preserve her new perm. We stood. We waited. Five minutes passed. Then ten. We stamped our feet. Mammy rubbed my cold hands and blew on them.
We peered expectantly at each woman who came in our direction, all bundled up against the cold and wrestling with umbrellas. Could that be her? No. Oh there she is! No. This must be her! No.
Mammy Hatchet muttered a few choice curses under her breath, which delighted me. Fifteen minutes. Mam, she’s not coming! OF COURSE SHE’S COMING. We could barely hear each other the wind was howling so loudly in our ears. Twenty minutes. Mam, maybe she’s been blown away into the river! SHE HAS NOT BEEN BLOWN AWAY. Twenty five minutes. Mammy, I want to go home. Tears were streaming down my face by now, muddling with the rain, blurring my vision. Mammy Hatchet looked miserable too. She glared out at the passers by. Finally, after 30 minutes, she admitted defeat. She wrapped her arm around me. Let’s go.
We left the relative shelter of our pillar and barrelled straight into a woman wrapped in a voluminous coat. Sorry! Sorry we didn’t see you there! Oh sorry now! Are you okay there girl? And she pulled back her hood. And we looked into her face. And it was my aunt.
Of course, she had been on time and had been waiting for 30 minutes too, huddled against the other pillar, cursing my mother’s lateness. Neither of them thought to look around the corner, so certain was each that she was in the only Designated Meeting Spot.
We scurried inside and ordered a tea.
Roche’s Stores Coffee Bar
Merchants st – you could cut across from the Roche’s Supermarket. The Cakes shop was there at the main entrance to the Coffee Bar I can still smell it now
Upstairs btw was the tax office.
It shared the narrow street with the Tobacconists that you could smell from McCurtain Street.
(https://oldphotosofcork.wordpress.com/2013/12/02/lambkin-tobacco-cork/)
And when I say narrow – my driveway is wider
Now all filled in as Merchants Quay
Too miserable to buy a coffee with cream?
Or a fanta float?
You were deprived Hatch
As a by de’ by like
Best range of cakes you’ll ever see. Easily a 100 different fancies.
Probably where it all started
Depends on a lot of factors including the availability of:
a) Pints or other alcoholic beverages
b) A TV with the match on
c) Free Wi-Fi
Otherwise 17 minutes 36 seconds is the internationally approved standard waiting period.
I never wait for anyone anymore – now I just ring em.
But back in the day… oh man. HOURS if it was the right person. All pre- mobile phones of course
Hours I spent underneath Clery’s clock – my shadow would be almost burned into the wall of Clerys on a sunny day. Powerscourt Townhouse centre was always a good place to wait too.
Incredible to think the amount of time I spent waiting for people…
My time seemed endless then – now I never seem to have enough of it.
But ye know, maybe if I had a beautifully designed watch based on the “aviator chronographs of the 1950s” to monitor my precious time, I might give people a bit more of my time…
Nudge nudge wink cough etc… ;-)
I’m generally not a very punctual person but for dates, interviews and medical appointments I am always on time. For dates I have to assume that they may have punctuality issues like me so a minimum of a half hour is a given. After that I would find somewhere to settle down for a pint and see if they do in fact show up at all. Whilst having a scoop I can contemplate their no-show, maybe their taxi/bus/train had a problem, maybe there was leaves on the track, maybe their taxi drove into somebody, maybe their phone has no battery, maybe some lowlife robbed their phone and they are waiting for the guards to fill out the report, maybe they got lost? Hmmm? Another scoop so. Maybe they are waiting for me at another pub, another pub with the same name?!! Maybe I gave the wrong location and I got confused? Maybe my battery is dead?, nope, it’s fine. Hmmm, another pint please barman? This person could turn out to be my actual soul-mate, think of how impressed they will be when they do arrive 2 hours late and I am still loyally waiting! Like a dope, an idiot letting someone I barely know walk all over me, this is not a good way to start a relationship. Maybe they are already here in a different part of the bar, or outside looking in, at me! Eeek! Will I go looking for them? – “Another pint please” – Will I feck! So two and a half hours late now, may as well even it up to 3. I’m hungry now, will I risk running up the road for burger? I could miss them after waiting all this time. Those 2 ladies in the corner booth look nice, maybe they will be impressed with my story, ah feck it, another pint please barman . . . .
You can’t get stood up if you do not have a date. Moreover, you can’t actually be hurt at all if you detach yourself entirely from everything and if you refuse to invest yourself emotionally in anyone.
However, I undertake to organise a date if I win that fine timepiece and I will use it to see how long (to the zeptosecond) I will wait before assuming I have been stood up.
I’d probably scroll through this Twitter feed for a minute or two then clear off.
https://mobile.twitter.com/thewatchwanker
Fnarr Fnarr …
Waited over 3 and a half hours when I was a broke student in bewleys for a girl I was very much enamored with. The staff kept coming over as i nursed cold coffees, anxiousness turning to heartbreak. When i bumped into her the next day i expected to be avoided but she was FURIOUS. “Who do ye think you are ye ignorant so and so..”
Well, as may have guessed, right time, wrong Bewleys. Anyway, 20 years married this year so worked out ok!
If it takes forever then I’m prepared to wait
The day she gives her heart to me won’t be a day too late
I waited 25 years for my fiancée.
Maybe if I’d had this watch I’d have given up sooner, but thankfully I didn’t, so I managed to nab her.
However, I could now REALLY do with the watch, I’m at a risk of losing her if I show up late to another date!
I remember on my father’s birthday it was raining, he was in the shed as usual and the noises were more disturbing than usual. We waited and waited with dread until finally, after 2 hours he stumbled back in through the door and collapsed on the cold kitchen lino, reeking of gin and piss. Slowly, he opened his sweaty hand and 7 small brown eggs fell out, each one more beautiful than the next. I picked up on and to my shock, I noticed several small windows, and peering through one was a small child my own age. He made to whisper something I couldn’t make out and as I bent even closer, he rolled up his sleeve to show me the most beautiful watch I’d ever seen. A watch I’ve dreamed about ever since. I now own this watch and id love to tell you how I came to its possession but that is my secret.
I’d wait until I had to order something, order it and have a pint while making alternative plans.
I’m still waiting on unread. The double blue ticks have escaped me for 4 years.
I waited for a friend of mine for 8 hours before. We were to go and meet friends in Galway and I was to pick him up at midday in Kildare, he can take his time, but on this day it became bizarre. He showered, packed his bag, unpacked his bag, rang his parents, (all took 4 hours), then showered again and then had to clean his house. By 6pm I had given up but had not told him and just watched as by 8pm he said he was ready and thats when I mentioned I was just going home. It was a learning expense and since then I give a grace period before just moving on.
I also am always on time. Watches help
Dwight Schrute
“I tell her to meet me in Mexico, but I go to Canada. I don’t trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard. I have a son and he’s the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting. I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris by the Trocadero. She’s been waiting for me all these years. She’s never taken another lover. I don’t care. I don’t show up. I go to Berlin.”
I’m either delighted that they don’t show up or happy that they do. It’s all the same really. Won’t wait for more than 15 minutes.
I was amazed to discover how people really respect your time once you show them that you don’t wait. It actually became a bit of a pain, I’d have friends call me in a panic saying they’d be 5mins late, I’d see them legging it up the road, arriving out of breath etc., etc.
Then the onus was totally on me to be on time.
My watch stopped at 10am yesterday. I’d come across it (new) in a 2nd hand shop 6 years ago, paid €10 for it, changed the strap once. Ready to select a new one. I’m fussy about my timepieces.
As a single younger man, I would have waited about an hour, then had a third pint and seen what else was on the menu so to speak.
It is not really being stood up, it is a bullet dodged, and that is a cause for celebration.
Next….
Got to say the watch does not grab me, not even if free.
Did anyone win the watch? Or did I miss the announcement?