My Yoga Mat Is Not My Wingwoman – A Short Rant.

Ok, but who else can relate? I tell this story to entertain more than to rant, because no harm no foul, but come on y’all….

So when I lived in Austin, before I used Car2Go or mooched off of my boyfriend for rides, I took the bus a lot. I am a strong advocate for public transportation but I am fully aware of why people wouldn’t be, especially in cities where the public transportation isn’t so dandy.

On my way to yoga one day, I was playing Pokemon Go on the bus. A decently-dressed younger guy started talking to me about Pokemon Go. Fair enough. And then he kept talking about Pokemon Go, and I wasn’t a huge player, so I just continued nodding and nodding and leaning back in my seat and nodding. The conversation went nowhere, so the guy turned to yoga. I had my yoga mat, so he started asking about yoga.

This is where I come to a dilemma. I love yoga. I know it’s not for everyone, but I encourage everyone to at least take a class. I love that yoga allows me to connect with others. But I also know what ends up happening when some dude won’t stop talking to you on a bus. So typically, when a dude starts to talk to me about yoga, I keep the conversation positive. No, you don’t have to be flexible to take a yoga class! It’s a great time! I enjoy going to a studio downtown that is donation-based! Oh…no, just because I do yoga alone… doesn’t mean… I’m single…

So here I am, hyping up yoga for Pokemon Go Fan #001. He then asks me if I can do a split, which is where I draw the line. Dudes, if you ever have the opportunity to ask a woman if she can do a split, don’t take it.

In case for some reason you need this laid out for you, no dude should ask a woman on public transportation about their physical abilities, because 1) that is none of your business and 2) I have been working damn hard on my splits but everything comes with time and I have high-toned muscles and just started to feel comfortable in a forward fold and now I’m insecure again, I’ve been using blocks but we have a lifetime to work on each pose, asana is only the third limb of yoga and what’s most important is the breath Instagram-worthy practices will come with time or never but that’s not the point –

*inhales*

Anyway. I was saved by the bell, when a friend started to call to tell me rather personal bowel-related details about why she couldn’t go to yoga. It lightened the mood for me and allowed me to get out of this conversation that was going straight to nowhere-town. As my friend told me about the perils of gluten, Pokemon Go Fan #001’s friend gets on the bus and sits across the bus from him.

Now this is a rather rude detail to share, but just to give you a visual image: this girl had one front tooth missing, and the rest were not doing so well. I wish her the best with her dental journey, but nothing about her qualified for the coveted role of “Wingwoman,” which is what she thought she was. I get off the phone, thinking I’ve gotten out of this uncomfortable conversation, and she screams, about me, “SHE’S CUTE JORDAN, ASK HER OUT!”

Jordan (is his name, I guess,) turns to me and says, “Well now that the cat’s out of the bag, would you like to hang out sometime?” What the f$%$ cat was he talking about. What. Whatever. I told him I didn’t give my number to people I meet on public transportation. Y’all, even if you consider yourself a person who ~doesn’t live by the rules,~ it’s a damn good rule to follow. The rest of the conservation went like this:

“Well how about this. I give you my number and you can make a decision about whether or not you want to hang out with me.”

“I don’t want to hang out with you.”

“Ok but how about this.”

“No.”

“5-1-2….”

I very obviously didn’t type the number in my phone and walked off at my stop. The whistling wingwoman asked me to meet them at SpiderHouse that night, and I said no.

I Just Don’t Understand.

me, done with creepy men.

This story cracks me up but it’s also exhausting because it’s not the only story where some guy uses this spiritual practice as an in so he can be creepy and ask me about my body. It blows my mind, every time, for some odd reason. But let’s think about this, y’all. Even if I was interested in going on a date with someone, there is no way in hell I would bring a date to where I practiced. I’m not going to sweat in front of you. I don’t look at a single person when I’m at yoga. I go to yoga because I’m stressed and don’t want anyone looking at me. I cry sometimes on my mat. I cry more frequently than I let on (thanks to the sweat.) No date should involve sweat or tears (or blood, either. Another good rule to follow.)

And while we’re on the subject, a yoga studio isn’t a great place to ask someone on a date, either. I am emotional or living the introvert fantasy 100% of the time while I’m in a yoga studio. I love to make a new friend, and I have made many through yoga, but it takes many weeks bumping into each other at the studio before that becomes acceptable. (Fun tip: need to hide from someone? Child’s Pose.)

I’m hoping/assuming that no one who reads my blogs has had to dig deep and think about changing their ways while reading this post, but maybe I’m just reiterating that while yoga may involve tiny clothes and is an appealing physical practice to watch, none of that means that the yogis posting on Instagram or heading to the studio are looking for some you-know. People do yoga for themdamnselves. Let’s all be cool and respectful, yeah?

I’m sure I’m not the only person with a funny/exhausting story about some dude trying to be slick by asking you about yoga, so let it rip in the comments.