There is the concept if Territory Time up here in Darwin. It is not exclusive to Darwin, or the Northern Territory per se, but it is here.
Up here, time is a bit fluid.
It's been said that N.T. stands for "Not today. Not tomorrow. Not Tuesday. Not Thursday."
And it stands. Don't expect people to come back to you. It's not going to happen. You will get your information, your service, your car parts.... you name, when it happens.
It's just the way things are.
When it gets a bit fractious is when you're are using your Southern sensibilities and expecting something to run on time.
Which happened tonight.
I went to my normal nail salon at lunchtime to book a pedicure. I was polite. Asked if I could have a normal polish pedicure at 5 p.m. Of course it was. They took my booking.
I left work at five to five to walk around to the salon. Yes, I got way-layed for a few minutes by colleagues with various questions (the big one being did I want to come for a drink). I also had plans to meet a few team mates at 6.30 for a drink.
Fine. I got to the salon at five past five. Nothing too bad. I was asked to wait. That was fine. They gave me a bottle of water. Even better. (Dragon Nails are good like that, but then again, most nail salons will do this - it's how they roll up here).
I was shown to a chair at 5.20 p.m. By this time I'd struck up a conversation with a nice woman and we chatted on while getting massaged and she chose her shellac colour. Fine.
Remember, I got to the salon five minutes before her.
Then she got seen to first.
For me. Crickets.
Oh well, we kept chatting.
By five to six, I was wondering what was going on. I started to look uncomfortable. Speaking to the manager, who was wondering about, I said that I really had to get going at 6.20 - I might have to leave. Somehow, I had somebody come over to work on my feet.
It wasn't the long slow pedicure I've had there in the past - but I asked her to rush. They also did a good job.
And then it was over. I walked out at 620, ran home, dumped my bag and met the boys in the hotel foyer.
Not the relaxing lead up I wanted.
Never to mind. It happened; it was fine. Nothing to get stroppy about. My feet have been scraped and polished. No harm, no foul, just a touch annoying.
It's Territory Time. It's how things roll up here.
Unfortunately, the planes don't run on Territory Time. They run on normal people time, so I must get packed and get myself to the airport.
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