Do You Know What Time It Is?

When my hair reaches a certain length a memory pops into my mind. It’s the recollection of a very brief conversation I once had in elementary school.

I was a home schooler taking a gym class at a local private school. One morning before the class met I was sitting in the bleachers in an empty gymnasium. A middle-aged-to-elderly man* entered the gym, walked over to where I was, and sat down in the row in front of me. We sat there in silence for a bit. Then he turned to look up at me and said: “Do you know what time it is?”

I looked at the clock on the wall (wondering why this strange man didn’t just look himself) and replied: “It’s 10:05.”

The man didn’t seem to listen to my response, just as I finished talking he spoke, revealing that his question had been rhetorical. “It’s time for a haircut.”

And then he got up and walked away. Awkward.

I'm a rebel.

My hair was not very long. The picture on the right shows me in all my elementary school long-haired rebel glory. But I didn’t fight the man; I got my hair cut.

Ever since that awkward conversation I think of that school principal whenever my hair starts to cover my ears. Do you know what time it is? And I laugh.

* I later learned the strange man in the gym was the principal at the school, and that he took the dress code and personal appearance very seriously. My brief conversation with him (if you can even call it a conversation) in the gym was the only time I ever saw him.

1 Comment

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One response to “Do You Know What Time It Is?

  1. You still have very much the same smile, you rebel you!

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