I wrote a little story some time ago 🙂 There are three protagonists involved. You can find the first part below and soon the other two. You just have to keep coming back here for more if it piqued your interest.
HIM
This was the first time I laid eyes her, and I already knew I was going to need a thesaurus to describe her properly. There is only so many adjectives that humans invented and they are not all fit to describe forms that seem to have come from another dimension. I mean, just look at these beautiful shades of caramel on what seems like translucent skin and the intricate, tattoo-like mandala patterns etched onto it when she just lies there on the floor motionless – they are enough to make you re-evaluate your sense of aesthetics. Yes, simply nailed to the floor with all the curvy edges and I couldn’t help imagine how gently she’d accept and cushion my body to the ground if I could just lie on top of her for a hot second. Then again, I would probably have to pay at least $80 for the pleasure, with no refund accepted if I sweated on her even a little. Nah, I’m just not that much into fitness to spend crazy bucks on a yoga mat.
Still, here I am, half way through a vinyasa class, right by the bay window which seems to be shining a spotlight on me and trying not moan out loud when my hamstrings feel even the tiniest tension. Years of football will do that to you. If yoga does not fix them for me, I don’t know what will. Well, my mind was obviously looking for a distraction from the intense stretch because my attention was drawn slightly to my right to a lovely and pert backside in tights. Or is it “thights”? Some very tight thigs in tights. Yes, I did try to say that three times fast in my mind while vacantly staring as she was graciously lowering onto that fancy mat. This dumb linguistic exercise I just mentioned caught me off guard, because I realised far too late… a bulge was forming down my trunks. Are you kidding me? Now?!
“Slowly come down from your downward dog to your knees and rest on your mat in Sphinx pose for a lovely and relaxing back bend,” said our instructor in his deep and soothing baritone. Sweet! For those of you who are not exactly experienced yogis (and I survived four classes already which gives me the right to explain with overwhelming authority): Salamba Bhujangasana or Sphinx pose is the one when you lie down on your stomach and then raise your chest up while propping yourself with your hands stretched in front of you. Long story short – a pose seemingly made to cover up unwanted boners. Yep, I am not moving an inch until this one goes away.
That said, somewhere between the second or third deep breath in the pose, I crossed eyes with the owner of those tight thighs and it did not help at all with the problem I had down south. Quite contrary, I began fighting with myself not to inconspicuously gaze down there to check if I had been lifted off the mat… Somehow, during my first few classes I mostly saw some chubby or pregnant women, so I was not ready for this sudden reminder of the savage beauty of a female body.
Truth be told, I have never really been a man who knows how to stand his ground and always lacked a little confidence. When I go to restaurants and don’t have a chance to study menu online before, I panic and order pancakes. Go figure. Mum told me once of the time when I was like five and she took me to the pond at the park as there were children feeding ducks there. One of them noticed me looking at them, so he came over and gave me some of his bread cubes. “Thanks,” I said soberly, and ate them. Later, when you grow up, you realise that everyone you meet fights their own internal battle of which you don’t know anything about. So you become good at faking taking a phone call so they don’t try to tell it to you. Now, however, I was slowly but surely plunging into these maroon eyes, completely oblivious to the teacher and his instructions as he was slowly gliding in between our mats. I was hopelessly trying to imagine myself stepping on a crunchy leaf to experience fleeting joy and inner peace – or whatever they usually tell you at these classes – but it turned out it does little for eliminating erections.
So here I am, the only person still stubbornly stuck in Sphinx on a mat right in the middle of the class like a total bell end, while everyone else is already on their backs and twisting their knees to the left.
I did not really know what to do, so I simply kept gazing at this lovely stranger who has just gently placed her right cheek on the mat and turned her gaze my way. I could almost see a little smile forming in the corners of her lips. Oh… so you know, don’t you? Are we in this together now? You little minx! You do know it and you like it. You like… me. Or maybe I am just seeing things?
And then it happened.
The air split apart. No, literally, it split apart because the loudest fart has just been released into the air and the toxic particles which were undoubtedly set into the air at the same time have killed all the atoms on their way. I challenge the guy who invented mindfulness to come and join me in this set up and see if he sticks around or rather shows me how NOT to be in this moment. What do I do? Do I close my eyes to minimise the toxic impact? Better be the guy with a boner lying on a mat than the guy with a boner on a mat and crying. “Good thinking,” I congratulated myself silently.
Well, before I could even close my eyes, a very simple thought hit me. Was it her? Was the amazing curly mop hair the disgusting stinker? And… was it my fault? Maybe she somehow knew about my raging erection and found the thought so appalling that she felt she had to blast it down her bowels? Should I be proud that I can stealthily bring flatulence on gorgeous women like that or is it not exactly a thing you mention over evening drinks? So many questions! I mean, it was like a quick round of a machine gun, at least 3 on the Rectum scale, and it did come from that direction. Talk about women being delicate and ethereal… “Not only a body like a Coke bottle but also as full of gas?” – I would chuckle to myself a week later only to get super sad a moment after that it had not occurred to me at the time.
Hold on though – is she giving me a compassionate smile? No way! Girl, if you are thinking of blaming it on me right now, you better have another thing coming. I have only just started finding my feet in this whole yoga thing and I will not be known for the rest of my life as mister pervert stinker, period.
It takes one to know one, thunder buns, you watch me!
Slowly but surely, I reciprocated her commiserate grimace and gently began to turn my head around to other people, still maintaining my you-poor-thing-it-could-have-happened-to-any-of-us smile, always making sure my gaze faltered just slightly too long on Miss Choo Choo Train here, practically shaking my head in dismay. Yeah, that’s what’s up! I’m so yoga, so tolerant, it’s not even funny, girl.
That seemed to have done the trick, as I could feel the attention gradually shifting away from me. Well, let me tell you, she did not like it one bit. Her eyebrows contracted when she realised what I was doing. She was blushing big time now and if I could stop imagining the acid rain droplets which were surely floating around her right now, I would even say it was really cute. Damn, I would have probably tried to ask her out after the class, but now I was too busy mentally preparing my nostrils for the silent but violent gas attack.
There were the inevitable guffaws and giggles everywhere around the class at this point, but people were surprisingly more mature about it than I would have imagined. Wait, how will the teacher deal with it? I located him standing slightly behind the mat of miss thunder cheeks, going all red as well and seemingly unsure what to do. Poor guy, must have been right behind when the blast happened. Still, he had to have been in a similar situation before and knew how to dissipate it (no pun intended).
Well anyway, it was between me and her now. The more looks she kept receiving following my little misdirection campaign, the more I noticed her trembling with embarrassment and staring daggers at me now. The teacher was talking still, I could hear him in the background, something about “being in the moment” and “welcoming distractions”. My lady friend, however, was getting really uncomfortable and – still not batting an eyelid while angrily piercing me with her gaze – started getting off the mat. Yeah come on, go home, farty pants. Then, much quicker, she put her hand in front of her face, blew me an air kiss, and dramatically directed herself towards the exit, forgetting her mat behind. Oh, grow up, girl. Not wanting to be outdone, while she was still partially directed towards me, I caught her kiss mid-air, clenched my fist and raised myself towards the window to pretend to throw it out of the room.
Well, I gotta tell you, I forgot the first rule of yoga here: never, ever move out of Sphinx pose when you have a massive erection. Just don’t.
I realised my mistake the moment I lifted myself on one hand towards the window and heard the first horrified gasp. Things spiralled quickly out of control from there. People whispering oh-my-Gods, covering their eyes with their hands, others turning away from me in disgust. The teacher seemed to be fixed motionless in place and simply gazed at me in disbelief. Yeah, I’m lost for words here too, buddy. I decided to do everyone a favour and get the hell out of there before I caused heart attacks, got arrested or both. I quickly doubled up my mat and, trying to cover up the “tent” I pitched with it, stormed out of the door, before it even closed after my gaseous new friend. I could hear how the agitated conversations and cries of disbelief got louder after I closed the door behind me. It will probably be a few years before the ban on me getting anywhere near any public place expires, so I can safely say my journey with yoga was short and sweet. Might as well leave like a legend.
[END OF PART 1/3]