My chi is horny 0
It was a day of firsts for me. It started with a shot of wheat grass juice. It smelled like grass and tasted like freshly mowed greens should – good for you gross. I went hard core and passed on the orange slice chaser. That had to be for pussies. I survived just like I did when mom made me eat liver. Now I’m getting my vitamins a new way. After work, I attended my first yoga class in California. I quickly came to the conclusion that I wasn’t in Brooklyn anymore.
There were men in my yoga class and I think most of them were straight. Real men didn’t go to the yoga studio in my old Windsor Terrace neighborhood. They went to Farrell’s around the corner which was a bar that boasted the freshest Budweiser in the city. This 5:30 p.m. class was about 50 percent men. I was dying. I laid my mat down in the back of the room. Nobody was going to see my fat wide ass. I was going to do the viewing in this class.
I started peeking during downward dog. Wow, nice thighs. I see biceps and a let’s-cast-that-in-marble perfect ass. I had to refocus my breathing. A half-hour later, I did my endurance viewing. Who was going for water and towels? Who was cocky and showing off?
When we got to the floor stretches and final breathing exercises, I returned to center – myself. Then I became very aware of my surroundings. I heard planes flying overhead. I heard buses going by. These were the sounds of my Windsor Terrace yoga studio. My breathing transported me back to Brooklyn.
A few OMMMMMHS later I rolled up and grabbed my mat. I was craving a New York slice and a Brooklyn Lager pint.
I wonder what the guys do after class. Probably wheat grass.