Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Random Memory

Me:  In high school (parenthetical thought: teenage angst, acne, clumsy and awkward all come to mind but this isn’t a memory about those word associations.  Though I may want to address them later on in our discussion.  Probably not.) and our gym class takes a field trip to a bowling alley.  A big clock on a dingy wall overlooks the lanes.  It slowly ticks eating our time away.  Science class looms.


Then, a thought.  One thought. One teenaged, testosteroned thought.  Jump up and move the clock-hand back five minutes!


But could I?  Could I take the chance at a scolding (our gym teacher was, if anything at all, intimidating)? Could I risk detention?  I could.  And I did.  I leaped up and pushed the big hand back five.  Five more minutes of thunder as balls crashed into pins. Five more minutes of the sound of shoes sliding across grains of wood. Five minutes less of science.  And I never got caught.