Honestly. This happened on Christmas Eve. I understand the studio will be closed for one day people, but your names are on a list for this last [Rock Star Guru] class, there will be room for you without having to push me to get to the front of the line.
If this was my first ever yoga class I’d have said a few things. In fact I’ve only been doing yoga for a couple of months now. I tried yoga several years ago in my small home town in Canada and ended up leaving the class mid-way swearing like the trucker’s daughter I am after the loveless instructor pointed me out a few times with, “you in the pink, you’re doing it wrong” and “headband, lean back further” – I let it slide the first few times; maybe I’d signed up to the wrong level of class, maybe it was my fault. Except I was in a bloody Bikram® yoga class and isn’t that supposed to be open to all?
Having been bullied and picked on by meanies in elementary school there was no way I was going to stand, or back bend, for it as an adult.
“This is fucking bullshit.” I said, steamed up in two ways.