There was a guy in tonight’s yoga class, kind of caddy-corner/behind me who was wearing jeans. I expected him to pull off his jeans, revealing shorts underneath, but no: he intended to do yoga in jeans. Whatevs, I thought. Good luck with that! But when we were all in downward dog 20 minutes later and his phone in his back pocket vibrated, and he REPLIED TO A TEXT while still sorta upside-down, I got a little irritated. Dude, you’re missing the point of yoga. He wasn’t even trying a little bit.
Britten, in her usual, low-key way, waited until the class was about halfway over, and when we were in a particular flexy pose, she said, “Now, if you’re WEARING JEANS, this probably isn’t going to work for you.” Zing! Nice.
Britten, in her usual, low-key way, waited until the class was about halfway over, and when we were in a particular flexy pose, she said, “Now, if you’re WEARING JEANS, this probably isn’t going to work for you.” Zing! Nice.
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