08.14.07

Time Zone Tribulations

Posted in Rants at 10:30 pm

Moving 1400 miles away from your home (which is already 1400 miles away from HOME home) is oftentimes a daunting task for a person. New job, new friends, business associates, new weather, new culture. Most people worry about these things. In an alarming realization that I probably have no soul, I have discovered that I do not worry about such things.

Instead, I worry about time zones.

The first 23 years of my wonderful life were lived in ignorant, pampered bliss: I was a native of Eastern Standard Time, which I am beginning to think is God’s Time Zone¹. In God’s Time Zone, you do not have to think. Everything is handed to you on a silver platter. Much of my first 23 years were spent devoid of subtractional time calculations required by the other 2/3 of the country.

But in the Pacific Time Zone, things change. You find yourself missing football games because you failed to wake up before the sunrise. You need to bug out of work early to see your favorite basketball team. And you get really damned good at subtracting shit by 3.

On the east coast, you do no subtraction. You are in God’s time. Everything and everyone is on your time zone. It is normal to call someone at any hour you wish, because if it’s 9am in Akron, OH, surely it’s 9am in Hermosa Beach, CA.

And therein lies the problem. It is not 9am in Hermosa Beach. It is 6am. And when I get telephone calls at 6am by ignorant east coasters, I get upset.

Natives of Central Standard Time (which is, despite God’s will, the most superior time zone I have yet experienced) are typically at least cognizant to the fact that it is not 9am everywhere else. They understand that it might actually be 7am in California.

But east coast people know no such shame. They can call you whenever the hell they want. And they do. At least twice a month, from my calculations — and I’m quite sick of it.

So sick of it, in fact, that I’m considering cutting off all business ties with the east coast. Not because I’m becoming a Mercedes-driving asshole who lives in LA. And certainly not because I’m a west coast elitist — far from it. But mainly, because I’m sick and tired of being called at 6-fucking-thirty in the morning!

So since it’s so difficult to understand the simple rule of “Subtract by 3 when calling PST”, I will provide a table for you to print and keep posted to your telephone:

Thank you.

¹Many people may argue that God is timeless, but that falls upon deaf ears here, for I have now lived in two different time zones, and can testify that God’s watch, built by none other than the blind watchmaker, is set to Eastern Standard Time.

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