Tales from the Yoga Studio Read Online Free PDF Page B

restitched a couple of vintage dresses she had stored away in a closet. It’s true the bike is a target for thieves, but in her mind, that only confirms its value. She’s got a very good lock.
    What she likes least about the bike is that it really doesn’t show off her ass.
    Under most circumstances, she’d consider this a plus. She’s had way more than her fair share of wanted and unwanted attention all her life, and there’s no use pretending that thirty percent of her massage clients at Edendale Yoga aren’t guys (and one or two girls) who think she’s hot. Almost a year ago, after she put an end to her relationship (to be generous about what was in fact more like an exercise in low self-esteem) with Phil the Impossible, she decided to take a break from men and dating and sex altogether. It’s been among the most relaxing stretches of time she’s had in years and the most centering, but lately, as she’s biked down Hillhurst Avenue to the studio and past the station house and spotted the redhead—two days ago she chatted up one of the other firemen, who told her his name is Conor—she’s had a sudden desire to be leaning over the handlebars, flaunting the results of all those utkatasanas she’s been doing over the past couple of years.
    The way she sees it, there’s a big fat connection between sex and yoga (well, sex and everything , but who’s counting?) that a lot of people don’t like to own up to. A lot of people she knows come for the body sculpting (sex appeal), combined with the flexibility (sexual enhancement), and the muscle control (duh!). The boyfriend before Phil also turned out to be a total shit (actor!), but after one month of Lee’s classes, his staying power increased dramatically.
    And if people aren’t using yoga classes to enhance their sex lives, they’re using them as an alternative to sex after a divorce or a bad breakup (Stephanie, she’s guessing) or a long dry spell. How else do you explain the popularity of Gianpaolo’s classes at the studio? His Italian accent is so thick, it’s hard to understand a lot of what he says. But man , does he give amazing adjustments, especially in paschimottanasana, when he more or less drapes himself over you backward so you can get your forehead closer to your knees.
    There are a few tragic types, like Brian/Boner, who come to class to show off their wares, but they usually end up the resident joke at Lee’s studio. The white stretch pants that scream I’m serious about yoga, ladies—and circumcised . She’s guessing he’ll either finally hook up and (mission accomplished) stop coming or realize no one’s buying and head off to a big commercial studio with a singles bar atmosphere. There is no shortage of those in this town.
    It’s another perfect morning, and since she’s got a few extra minutes before Lee’s 9:30 Intermediate Vinyasa class, she circles the block twice, hoping to spot or be spotted by Conor. Nothing. It’s a shame. She has on a yellow cotton dress and it looks great with her pale skin, and she’s finally learned how to ride while wearing a skirt. (Carefully, but not too .) She’s tempted to stop and adjust the basket she has on the front to see if Conor ventures outside, but that’s too obvious. She let one of the guys know she wouldn’t be disappointed if Conor contacted her, so maybe she’ll just leave it at that. And there’s always lunch break.
    As she’s locking the bike up behind the studio, she sees Lee through the window of her office, talking on the phone with her head down. Katherine always suspected that something was up in that marriage, never bought into the conventional wisdom that it was a perfect match. Like those exist? She’s been around the block a few too many times, had her heart broken too often, and seen the darker side of the way men really act to buy into