As co-founder of the irreverent community forum Recovering Yogi, I am so pleased to share one of our favorite stories by our July contributor of the month, Brie Doyle. This piece was originally published on Recovering Yogi, where we are all about bursting the bubble of new age narcissism and self-importance.
So, the other day my friend and I met for lunch at Whole Foods. There was nowhere to sit because everyone loves them some Whole Foods at lunchtime in Boulder. Obviously. A random, lone man offered up two seats at his table so we could sit, because my friend is cute and because I am a huge pregnant woman.
I lived in NYC for a short stint. I know what it feels like to sit on top of people at restaurants. In New York it felt fine, normal almost. But it just feels weird and unnecessary here. Nevertheless, without options, or much time, we took the kind gentleman up on his offer.
I get all weird and socially awkward when I know others are listening to my conversation when they shouldn’t be, but my friend was totally cool with it. In a normal voice, she started telling me some story about her friend in some job who wasn’t fulfilled but was making shitloads of money. The man pounded away on his laptop trying to act distracted, but frequently made eye contact and gestures at both of us, clearly showing his desire to get in on our conversation.
“Excuse me.” I freaking knew this was coming. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation about your friend who is dissatisfied in her job…” Slash you were listening and waiting for your moment the entire time, I thought. “Would she maybe be interested in working behind the most inspiring product of her lifetime?”
Okay, first of all, what are you supposed to say to that? “No, she’s not really into inspiring things, thanks for asking though.” Probably what I would have said, so I let my lunch mate do the talking.
“Um, er, maybe.” My dear friend responded.
“Well, give me your email and maybe you can put me in touch with her.” So she did, she being the kinder of the two of us. “Also, just so you know, I’m a guru, so I spend my time busy with that sort of thing. And I might even be able to make her feel better about her life.”
The sarcastic asshole in me, which makes up about 90% of my being, wants to jump all over this. I mean ALL OVER IT. But maybe I should look deeper. Maybe everyone’s a guru. Okay. I can buy that to a certain extent. It’s the totally uncalled for self-marketing that gets me. So, I figured instead of my usual cynicism I’d try this idea on for size. Walk in a person’s shoes, right?
My name is Brie Doyle. I am a guru of making fun of shit.
Should you need my assistance, just seek me out. Or maybe if it is meant to be, we will meet each other. Though for a small fee you can guarantee that you will be able to make fun of anything with the best of ‘em, with my assistance of course. Think about it. Because are you really that satisfied in your life without laughter? I can help you reconnect to your inner laughing child. All you have to do is email…
About Brie Doyle
Though pretentious yuppies abound in Brie’s home town of Boulder, CO, she can’t seem to find another place she’d rather live. But she’s been fortunate enough to try many places. From NYC to New Zealand, SE Asia, Japan, Nepal and India, Brie has traveled the world seeking adventure and stories to share. Pre-babies, she was a middle school teacher and a yoga teacher, but now that she is pumping out children, she stays at home and writes. She has written two novels, one based in India, one based in New York, and she is furiously seeking publication. In the meantime, she can be found making light of life here: http://www.realhousewifeofbouldercounty.com.
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The 4 Stages of a Good Divorce. A Letter to my Children: You do not come from a Broken Home. These People are Rare Gems—Keep Them, Fight for Them, don’t Give Up on Them. Mom, can I Call her Mom, Too? Jon Stewart makes first appearance since retiring—”it’s not your country.” Waylon shares 10 transformingly beautiful Quotes about Love. 40 Things I’ve Learned in 40 Years. Why your Yoga Goals are (Probably) Irrelevant, if not Downright Dangerous. My Marriage had to End—for my Life to Begin. Dear Woman in the White Car at Margaritas Mexican Grill in West Memphis, Arkansas on July 15th, 2012.