My V-Day Ommmmmmmm....

As the morning of Black Thursday arrived, my whole V-Day evening was planned and ready for “go-time.” Reserved two days in advance for my “Single and Strong on V-Day” coming out party, was a corner bar stool at my favorite restaurant, a chilled petite bottle of French champagne, and a very generous piece of the most decadent chocolate cheesecake in Chicago. It appeared that although solo, I had created the most perfect of evenings. So, roll out the red carpet because I was ready to make my grand entrance as the leading of all ladies… Until, an unexpected ride home from work caused one of Cupid’s arrows to go a bit askew.

After twenty-four hours of yet another never-ending Chicago snowstorm, I found myself trapped, bumper to bumper on I-90 attempting to get back Downtown to make my “party.” Between people trying to dodge potholes the size of Hoover Dam, and roads closed off due to ice and flooding, traffic was basically at a dead stop. At this point, there was no way I was going to make my “reservations.” After almost three hours in the car and endless Valentines “De-li-la” highlights, I was completely fried. Every muscle in my body was shot, and the last thing I could manage doing was having my “me party.” So, instead of being a complete party-pooper, I dragged my exhausted, drained existence to my new favorite hide-a-way ~ Yoga.

When I entered my Yoga studio that evening, I sensed a different vibe then usual. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I started to feel a nervous twitch. I then go to check-in at the front desk, and Sallie, my yoga swami (spiritual master) says, “Hey Girl! I am so glad you are here for Valentines Day Couples Yoga! Where’s your partner? I can’t wait to meet him!”

You have got to be kidding me. Is this a joke? At that moment I felt like I was back in the car on I-90 in a dead standstill. My “inside voice” let out an agonizing whine, “Why today? All I want is some peace! To find my Zen and get down with the dog! But, NO! I’m getting sucker punched with V-Day Couples Yoga?!?!
And ps> Thanks Sallie, for reminding me on this day of all days that I don’t have a boyfriend!” Breathe. Ommmmmmm……

After gathering my composure, I kindly told Sallie that I would pass on tonight’s class and see her tomorrow for Vinyasa Flow. She then says, “Wait, this is Simon (pointing to the confused, frightened man in the corner, who weighs at least thirty pounds less than me), Simon doesn’t have a partner. If you guys don’t mind, why don’t you two couple up and join the class! It will be tons of fun!”

Urgh.....

Willingly, after both being put completely on the spot, we agreed to join the class. I couldn’t help but notice though, Simon, examining our obvious differences in “physical dainty-ness” (and the size of my feet). He was definitely thinking, “How the hell am I going to get out of this one alive?”

Following the lead of all the REAL couples (and annoyed boyfriends, who’s girlfriends made them spend V-Day exercising), Simon and I enter the practice room, cozily setting up our mats (corner to corner).

“Swami Sallie” then sets up in front (alongside her cutie rocker boyfriend) and the rest is ninety, uncomfortably-intimate minutes with a complete stranger I will never forget.

Ommmmmmmmm.

Bringing our hands together in front of our hearts, Sallie Begins….

Position 1…

Sit half lotus on the ground back to back with interlocking arms around eachother. Hold, breathe, SQUEEZE.

Simon is now thinking, “Oh dear God PLEASE don’t squeeze too hard! And what the hell exactly am I squeezing over there? Is that a grapefruit tree up there? Or (feeling a little lower), did you forget to change the spare tire on the car?” (I am so embarrassed.)

Oh Jeez… This is going to be a long night.
(And watch those hands buddy!)

Position 2…

Stand back to back. (We are literally, foreign buttcheek, to foreign buttcheek, WITHOUT A PASSPORT). Now, spread your legs apart as if you were to prepare for triangle pose. Forward bend. (Asscheeks so tight together now as if you were mooning someone up against a car window! How embarrassing!) And, uh-oh, Zen interrupted… The man adjacent to me lets out a HUGE LOUD FART! Like the EL train is rolling through! Laughter erupts, his girlfriend is mortified. The room is a bit stinky. He says, “Sorry it just escaped!”

I wish I could escape.

Breathe. Let’s continue. Now reach your arms through your legs, and grab your partner’s elbows underneath and hold for three minutes. (And it begins, the unfamiliar, rather uncomfortable sweating between Simon and I).

This is now officially the closest I’ve ever physically gotten with a man (sober) on a first date.

Position 3…

Men, you get down on all fours and come into cat pose. Ladies, you lie over his back using him as support as you come into a backbend. (Good thing a cat has nine lives because if I lose my balance, poor Simon is going to need them). Dodgy, at best.

Position 4…

Stand side by side for interlocking tree pose. TIMBER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Luckily for Simon’s sake, he landed on top).

Position 5…

Men, you lie in child’s pose on the ground, and ladies you lay all your weight, balancing, free floating on top of him. (Simon begins to shake while I am performing this circus act on his back. He then says (in a strained breath as if he is breathing for dear life), “Would you mind if we switched positions? My knees don’t feel so good.”

Final position...

Laying flat on our backs, our legs and feet over lapping, but it is quiet and still. I like to call this position, Survival. We both made it. Him physically and me emotionally.

At this point I am sorry, I feel violated and exhausted. Me of all people have nothing else to say except...

Nameste.

FYI -- In Chicago... my finds of the month:

Looking for a great haircut and color, Call Nivas at J. Andrews Salon
1260 N. Dearborn
312-951-5338

Some Fun Chicago Theatre
Viaduct
Time of Your Life, Provision Theatre
31-11 Western (and Belmont)