All week long I look forward to my Thursday night yoga class. I’m not very zen or really “into the practice,” I just like the peacefulness of the hour and the physical workout. My regular teacher, Leigh, is in Paris for 2 weeks……if I didn’t like her so much, I’d hate her. Her husband is French and his parents live on the outskirts of Paris. Well, good for her.
On the infrequent times when she misses a class, we usually have a sub named Chris. Chris is tall with a dancer’s body and carriage. He wears a bandanna tied on his head betraying his rather obvious sexual preference. He addresses us as, “Class.” “Now, class; Good, class; Stand tall, class.” He’s something of a taskmaster. I like him a lot! But, he wasn’t the sub this week.
It was some girl. Some really annoying girl with a perfect body and grating voice. I don’t tolerate sing-song very well, particularly with a dash of disdain. And, she didn’t turn off the lights! Leigh always turns off the lights and you would be surprised at how much cooler it is over the span of the class. And, there was only 1 person I recognized from our regular throng – it’s a packed class most Thursday nights. Maybe the sub brought her own yoga posse. Whatever, I was not calm, not peaceful and not happy. She sang the names of the poses in what was probably Ancient Hindu which aggravated the hell out of me. At the end, during corpse, she finally turned off the lights. It was blessed relief, let me tell you.
After class I asked the one regular = what happened to our class and who IS this woman? She said she guessed everyone decided if Leigh got a vacation, so did they and that whoever she was, we were stuck with her for a couple of weeks. ugh. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. If she’s the sub for pilates, I’m just doing 45 minutes on the treadmill.
On NPR on the way home, there was a special on the “down and out in the midwest.” OK, I’m sorry and spoiled and pathetic. I have a nice house, a Husband who is alive and loves me to pieces, and who has a dependable retirement income, 4 beautiful and smart kids who have equally cool partners, 5 perfect grandchildren, a job that pays me probably more than I’m worth and I get to live in NorCal. So, Cindy. Do shut up.
