Irony hasn't been the same since 1996.

Every Wednesday our group of friends gather to spend the evening bullshitting and playing board games.

Jonathan decided to stay home. These sessions last a little too late for his liking, and result in him spending the next day at work exhausted.

Later in the evening Jonathan receives a message from Skip. He is going to stop by our place, to drop off a package.

He isn't staying that long at game night.

Now, Skip is a man who will be late to his own funeral. Hell, he was almost late for his own wedding. If you want him to show up at an event that takes place at 8pm, tell him it starts at 4pm.

Jonathan is not new to this information.

So Jonathan waits. And he waits. And he waits.

I eventually go to bed.

Around midnight I waken to the rustling of the sheets as Jonathan climbs into bed.

"Did Skip stop by? I didn't even hear him."

A pause.

"No, he sent me a message he wasn't feel too well so he is heading home instead."


This morning, Jonathan slept through his alarm clock. Both alarms.

He ended up being late for work.

I asked him if this was irony. Neither of us know, neither of us have known since 1996 when Ms. Morissette sang to us about the subject.

But Jonathan does know if he had just gone to game night, he would still be exhausted. But he would be at work on time today and have the package Skip was going to deliver.

Lessons learned.