Zigzagging cars and one spandex-clad bicyclist with an apparent death wish, West Chester Pike was a snaking traffic jam. Frowning at his wife in the passenger seat, Jeff angrily drummed the steering wheel. Tammy applied eyeliner and pretended not to notice. His knee bounced as he prayed for a break from the traffic. The light above turned green but because of cars blocking the intersection no one in their lane could move. Repeatedly, Jeff honked. He slapped the wheel. Tammy waved her mascara wand in his general direction.

“Could you chill? Seriously. I told you we are not going to be late. You are a guest speaker at a Black event. You’ve been married to a black woman long enough to understand CP time by now,” Tammy said with a swish on her upper lashes.

Jeff snorted. “Well excuse me for wanting to make a good impression with puncutality. Besides I thought my cousins were CP time.”

Jeff did air quotes. Fluttering her lashes in her compact, Tammy ignored him. The traffic light went from amber to red. Jeff was jealous of the bicyclist weaving through traffic.

“No your cousins are Country People time that’s when half the family is five minutes late and the other half misses the party entirely because they went to the wrong address,” Tammy said chuckling.

“My cousin Possum did that one time and you’ve never let me forget it. One time,” Jeff said.

“The key phrase in that sentence is ‘Cousin Possum.’ Don’t worry baby. You don’t want to show up so early you make all the late people embarrassed. Remember that time at Marisol’s barbecue.”

Tammy’s mouth formed a ripe O as she applied lip liner. The light changed to green. Elated, Jeff crept up the road following a long line of commuters.

“My god, the party was for two o’clock. Two o’clock. We had to set up the outdoor furniture. Buy ice. Pick up cupcakes from somebody’s granny,” Jeff said laughing. “Pick up somebody else’s granny. They hadn’t even lit the grill.”

“Grill! Sweetie, the potatoes were still boiling for the potato salad. That’s City People time. Six hours later taters.”

The overhead light turned red. It was Jeff’s turn to block the intersection. A volley of car horns sounded as frustrated drivers tried to cross the pike. Puckering, Tammy applied the finishing touches to her lips.

“You’re worth waiting for, babe,” she said laying a reassuring palm on his thigh. “Your speech will be golden."

He mussed her lipstick with a kiss as the light turned green.