46 - Yoga Class Part 1

     "Yoga class!?!  Let me get this straight," I said to Connie the
waitress.  "You want me to go with you to a Yoga class?!?"
     "Not just yoga," she said, her brown eyes dancing, "HOT
yoga."
     My mind raced as I inhaled the last drag of my American Spirit Red.  The
thought of doing yoga with this beautiful twenty year old girl was a bit much. 
I have trouble tying my shoes.  My back cracks when I reach into my back pocket
to get my wallet.
     Connie and I had been hanging out quite a bit in the last two months.  She
was just my type of girl, solid A- college student, mind set squarely on the
future, smart enough to carefully watch the present, and loaded with common
sense.  She was also gorgeous and had studied dance and gymnastics since she was
four.  I'm a dirty old bastard.
     "You always complain about flexibility and getting old.  My roommate
Tammy stopped dancing four years ago.  She took three weeks of this class and
she was almost back up to speed."
     I cracked open the Organic Yellow American Spirits and stared through the
window into the cold winter night.  The deep drag felt good.  If I was going to
go to a yoga class I needed the healthy organic cigarettes.
     "So what the hell is hot yoga?  Does this mean I have to see you all
naked and stuff?!?"  I said pretending to roll my eyes at the ceiling.
     "No silly," she said slapping my shoulder.  "They turn the
heat up in the room to 100° and you just relax, breath, and stretch.  Relax,
breath, and stretch."
     "Breath, stretch, shake.  Work it out.  Breath, stretch, shake.  Work
it out."  I started singing to myself.
     "I hate that song."  She said curling up on her corner of the
couch.
     "I dispiiiise Mase but how the fuck could you not love that
song?"
     She belched loud enough and long enough to shake the goddamn couch. 
     "That's what I think about that song."  She was far too
comfortable with me.  She wouldn't sleep with me but she was getting really
comfortable.
     "So when does this class start?" I asked blowing smoke towards
her desk.
     "Two hours.  Wanna go?"
     I took another deep drag and considered my options.
1) Go home alone and check out some Internet porn
2) Hang out with this beautiful, increasingly interesting little girl who, in
two hours, would be in a tank top and shorts all hot and sweaty.
     "OK, but if I'm the oldest guy there I'm leaving.  If I see some 50 yr
old dude there with a hairy back who wants to play naked twister I'm
done."
     "Freak." she said pulling her hair back and heading to the
bedroom to change.
     "I can't believe I'm going hot yoga with Connie the waitress and some
50 yr old dude that wants to play naked twister."
     From the couch I could hear her singing to herself; "Breath, stretch,
shake.  Work it out."
     "Yoga class." I said to myself.
That Beautiful Black Man