Moe looked in the mirror and didn’t like what he saw. His face was rounder than he remembered. Another sleepless night left dark circles under his eyes. Moving his eyes down to his belly – it was worse than he thought. He poked his gut a few times and watched it jiggle.
He couldn’t believe he was going to turn thirty in another week. The big three-o got him down. It seemed not that long ago he’d gotten the job at Acme Technical Support. Angry people yelling at him all day didn’t do much for his stress levels. But, they had promoted him to a supervisor.
Now was the time for a change. He’d be a new man in his thirties. No more chubby, sad sack of a guy. He remembered that magazine in the grocery store line. The one where a beautiful woman sat, legs crossed in that funny way, on a beautiful beach wearing a serene expression on her face doing yoga. He’d never been athletic, but yoga looked easy. Even someone as out of shape as him could stretch. And he’d start watching what he ate too. No more McDonalds for him.
He put his clothes on then went to the kitchen to pack some healthy food for the day. Heck, he could even save money and get healthy by packing his lunch. He opened his refrigerator and peered into a barren arctic wasteland. No food. He’d have to go grocery shopping. Okay, so one more day of McDonald’s. But he’d definitely skip the super-size.
After he got to work, he searched online for some coupons for yoga classes near his place. Yup, financial fit and healthy in his thirties.
Ahhh, there it was, a thirty-day unlimited trial for thirty dollars at the yoga studio down the street from his apartment. The price was right. And it was even Hot Yoga. That woman on the magazine had definitely been hot. This was the class for him.
His phone rang. He picked it up and said, “Hello, Acme Technical Support. How can I help you?”
“Hey, Moe. It’s Sarah. I’ve got Johnny Cache on the phone. He’s a really grumpy old guy. I’ve tried to help him, but he just keeps yelling at me. He’s asked to talk to a supervisor. Could you take the call?”
“Sure, transfer him over.”
Moe’s phone went silent. Then it buzzed, and he heard someone breathing on the other end.
“Hello, sir. My name’s Moe with Acme Support, and I’m here to solve your problem. Can you tell me what’s happening?”
“Hello, young man. I hope you can help me. My daughter gave me one of these new-fangled Smartphones. She wants to keep a close eye on me and make sure I’m taking my medicine. Just because I’m getting old doesn’t mean I’m senile!”
“Oh, of course not. But can you tell me what’s going wrong with your phone?”
“Sure, well I was in the apse the other day, and it stopped working.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that, sir. What went wrong with the app?” asked Moe.
“Nothing. The apse is fine.”
“But you just said your app stopped working?”
“No, I didn’t. I said the dang phone wouldn’t work. The apse is fine. It’s been there for a hundred years,” said Johnny.
“I was just making an allusion to your earlier comment.”
“I don’t see illusions. I told you I’m not senile. That’s a very rude thing to say to a Senior Citizen. ”
“I’m sorry, Sir, but I need to understand what app you were in so I can fix your problem.”
“Well, I don’t see what that has to do with anything. But, if you must know, I was in the apse of St Bart’s Cathedral.”
“Okay, let me look that up … hmmm. Sir, I can’t find St Bart’s Cathedral in my list of apps.”
“What kind of jackass keeps a list of apse on his desk?”
“Please, don’t be rude, sir. I’m trying my best to help you. I really need to understand which app isn’t working before I can solve your problem.”
“I told you, you idiot, the apse is fine. It’s been there for longer than you’ve been alive. But, it’s the one over on Tenth Street. You can find it in any phone book if you must.”
“Sir, please don’t call me names. I’m extending you every courtesy.”
“Why would you curtsy to me? I can’t even see you. Ohhhh, are you one of those LGBTQXYZ people?”
“Why would you say that? Sir, I’m sorry, but have you been taking your medicine?”
He heard a loud thud. His phone beeped, indicating that the customer had hung up on him.
Poor old guy, Moe thought, probably couldn’t remember to take his medicine. He’d have to work hard at yoga and stay healthy, so he didn’t end up the same way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Moe munched on a McSalad for dinner. He felt good about his choice of meal and even felt a little healthier. After dinner, he changed into his workout clothes and drove to the yoga studio. He probably could’ve walked. But he didn’t want to sweat and ruin his chances with all the hotties.
He parked his car outside a group of old- brick storefronts in an industrial part of town. He walked into a door under a sign reading ‘Biscotti Breath Yoga.’
Inside, the lobby was painted in an aqua and pink color scheme. One wall was covered by a black shelf lined with multiple cubby holes, each one big enough for a gym bag and a few other things. The lobby was decorated with Hindu statues of elephant gods wearing lots of jewelry. A small refrigerator held cold bottles of water, and clean white towels were rolled and stacked neatly in a corner. A big poster with a black background with a quote that read “peace, love, and happiness” hung over the front desk. Below the poster, a woman sat behind the counter. She wore workout clothes and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“Hi, can I help you?” she said, smiling.
He smiled back and said, “Yes, I’m here for the hot yoga class. I got this coupon online for a thirty-day membership for thirty dollars.”
“I’m glad you decided to come to Biscotti Breath Yoga. I need you to fill out our e-form,” she said twirling the iPad attached to the counter to him. Moe tapped in his information and swiped his credit card. She printed him a receipt and said: “You’re all set! The class is through that other door.”
“Thanks,” Moe said and started walking to the door.
“Oh, don’t forget your props.”
“What do I need? I’ve never done yoga before.”
“Not much. I’ll show you since it’s your first time,” she said getting out of her chair. She walked to a big basket with a bunch of brightly colored yoga mats sticking out of the top like an odd arrangement of flowers.
“Here,” she said. He scooped up the rolled-up mat, holding it in both arms. “That’s your mat, now here’s a bolster,” she said stacking an oval-shaped pillow, about the size of a sofa cushion, on top of the mat.
“Now you’ll need some blocks and a strap,” she said adding two square-shaped cork blocks. Then she added several thickly woven, colorful blankets and topped it off with a canvas strap that looked like a long belt. The mountain of stuff that reached up past Moe’s chin.
“That’s it! Now you’re ready for class,” the woman smiled.
“Thanks,” Moe muttered around the stack of equipment. He thought back to the picture of the yoga woman on the beach in the grocery store line. He didn’t remember seeing any of this stuff.
He stepped carefully on his way to the room. He couldn’t see anything below waist level.
“Oh, wait! I almost forgot your complimentary bottle of water,” the woman said and walked up to him with a cool bottle of Dasani bottled water. She held it out and almost stacked it on top of the blankets in front of his eyes, then frowned and looked confused. Then, she shoved it in the circle of open space in the middle of his rolled-up yoga mat.
“There. Have fun!”
The rest of the spots on the floor soon filled up.
A young woman that looked to be about twenty years old walked to the front of the room. She was definitely H-O-T, thought Moe. She wore skin-tight-purple yoga pants with an interesting fractal pattern and a sports bra that left nothing of her body to the imagination. She had thick hipster style glasses on and wore a big string of multi-colored wooden beads around her neck. A bright yellow flower stuck through a red headband tied around her long blonde hair. She plugged her phone into a cable on the table and the room filled with slow-mellow music of people chanting. She spread her yoga mat out perpendicular to the others so as take center stage in front of the class.
“Hello, class. Welcome to Biscotti Breath. Here, we treasure and value each person. We welcome diversity and love in all its forms. I just, well I don’t know, I just feel so much love in this room. I love each and every one of you. Yoga is all about love and togetherness …”
This is perfect, thought Moe, smiling at her. This Hottie loved him and wanted to be together already – before he’d even lost weight and gotten into shape.
“… as we go through our yoga practice today I’ll be your spiritual guide to the deep-centered truth of yoga. My name’s Fiona Repelinishest. I like to wear this flower,” she said gesturing to the bloom sticking out of her headband, “to symbolize the beauty and love I see and envision in each of you. I, as your ultimate zen spiritual guide for each and every one of you, will enlighten and illume your spirit with my yoga skills. And I’d like to especially welcome all the new faces I see here and welcome all the new spirits that I have not even met, and although I don’t even know the slightest thing about you or even know your name, this flower in my hair symbolizes the deep love and esteem I have for you too. And, don’t you just love my yoga pants! I just got them at King0-Frappe for $220,” said the twenty-year-old getting up and turning her butt to the class to model her pants. She gave her butt a little shake and smiled.
“Let’s start in tabletop pose. Like this,” she said getting onto all fours, “moving into cat and cow. Focus on your breath. As you inhale arch your back, then round it as you exhale. Feel the movement combine with your breath.
“Now that we’re warmed up, let’s move into Downward Dog Pose,” she said forming her body into a triangle shape with her feet and head at the bottom of each side of the pyramid. “Work it, people, this is supposed to be a work-out. Don’t slack off … work it hard, do it like a dog!” she said straining to put her butt higher in the air.
Moe liked his women dirty.
She got up and walked around the class calling out instructions as they moved through the poses. She inspected their movements and made small corrections and suggestions. The teacher’s flower bobbed around the room as she guided the class through the series of postures and stretches.
Dang, thought Moe. This was a lot harder than he thought. Sweat poured off his body as he moved into the next posture. Fiona walked by him, and he tried a little harder to straighten his body. It was hot enough to fry an egg in here. But, he needed to impress if she was to let him give her the ol’ hot beef injection.
“Okay, now, let’s move into dolphin pose. Bend your elbows, put your face on the floor and your butt in the air and breathe just breathe. Don’t be afraid of your emotions in this class. Some of these poses can be really emotional for some people. But if you ever feel sad remember the flower in my hair and all the power that comes with it. Just nestle into the warm embrace of my flower power and feel all the love and acceptance and deep understanding I have of you as a person. And remember, the main purpose of any yoga pose is to show you’re better than everyone else.
“Good job class. You’re all doing really well. I’m so proud of you. But wait, you, hey you, you” she said. Moe craned his neck around to see her staring, like a laser beam, right at him, through the blackest-black frames of her hipster glasses. The flower bounced around, and the wooden beads jangled ominously as she walked over to him. All that flower power scared Moe.
“You’re doing it all wrong! But don’t worry, I care about you, and I want the best for you. I can see you’re working through some pretty powerful emotions. But just breathe into it, don’t hold anything back. What’s wrong? Did you just break up with your girlfriend; did your grandmother just die?”
“Smashing my face on the floor hurts,” said Moe forcing the words out of his contorted mouth pressed against the mat.
“Oh, well, just pull your elbows back a little bit,” she said gesturing for him to move his arms.
Moving his arms like she said relieved the pressure on his face and he felt better. After a few more poses everyone lay on their back in Savasana Pose to relax a little before the end of the class.
Then the teacher said, “Okay everyone, please sit up and put your hands in front of your heart center like this. Now that we’re done with our yoga practice I want to say a few words about peace and love and hope for you to take with you through the rest of your day. Because I’m so peaceful and good and actually more kind, caring, and, zen than everyone else, I want to share an important message about love and caring with you. We should all embrace love, diversity, and think exactly like me. Like, I mean, I actually hate hate. Like I physically, violently, hate all people who hate. I hate hate so much that I actually hate the haters,” she said shaking a little with anger. Then, she bent over from the waist and chanted, “Namaste.”
The rest of the class imitated her bow and repeated, “Namaste.”
That confused Moe. Didn’t you have to be a hater to hate another person, even if the person you hated was bad? And if she really did hate all haters, wouldn’t that mean she hated herself? Thinking about all that made his head hurt.
After class, Moe gathered up his gear and placed each piece of equipment in its designated place. A group of people stood chatting in the lobby. Moe saw the flower bobbing above the other’s heads.
He thought about talking to Fiona and maybe trying to get her phone number. She was definitely hot. But, a weirdo-preachy-yoga-teacher girlfriend made his spine tingle.
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