Seeing as that I have a warped perception of reality, and I’m now paranoid that “everyone” in the whole world thinks I’m passionate about the fact that “true leaders” should make “unpopular decisions” to “protect the public’s safety,” I decided to go to hot yoga tonight. (Actually, I don’t care about any of that stuff — I’m more worried that I won’t be able to find a new roommate by February 1.)
Anyway, hot yoga is super-relaxing in a very sweaty, dizzying, you-can’t-summon-the-strength-to-bother-thinking-about-your-problems kind of way. Plus, they’re always playing such worldly music in there — it’s kind of a cultural experience.
So, yeah. I went to hot yoga because I needed to decompress after a long week of playing catch-up and also slipping and nearly falling on my face in Wal-Mart today (for no reason). The class was really crowded, so my friend T and I ended up in the back corner, right up against the wall, which I thought was a great spot… Until ass-crack dude sat down in front of me.
WTF? How do you roll into yoga in white board shorts? This dude is just sitting on his yoga mat, three feet in front of our faces, with the worst plumber’s crack I have ever seen. I seriously thought I wasn’t going to be able to stop laughing. I had to literally close my eyes every time I was supposed to look forward, so that I wasn’t staring straight into this dude’s butt.
The best part? He was wearing a U.S. Navy t-shirt. Way to represent the military, dude. You are too cool.
To top it off, he was there with his girlfriend, whose ass crack also started showing halfway through the class. OMG ASS CRACKS. It was ridiculous. And pretty gross.
This crazy trip has got me feelin’: silly
And I’m singin’ along to:: Rain King – Counting Crows