I wish I had taken a picture of this woman, who looked like a very tall ferret, doing yoga at our gate just before we were to board a flight from JFK. I was trying to focus on a work call, so I missed the photojournalistic opportunity.
The very tall ferret held pyramid pose (admittedly, her alignment was lovely), while her husband looked the other direction. I would too, buddy. I would too.
I don’t have anything against yoga in airports, per se. I’ve done yoga in airports, plenty. Traveling is uncomfortable and constricting and stressful. Yoga’s good for all of those. It’s just that when you’re IN THE MIDDLE OF A CROWDED GATE, seriously practicing a standing posture, or handstand, or anything other than say, easy pose, you kind of look like an asshole. We get it. You do yoga. You’re spiritual. Yay for you.
And this is where it gets good.
So I board the plane, and there’s a guy in front of me blocking the aisle as he puts away his carry-on, which is not fitting into the overhead compartment. I’m waiting patiently. (In fairness, this is only because I’m distracted by my phone call. I can’t actually count patience among my virtues.) I feel a nudge on my arm. I turn around and see that it’s very tall ferret. She glares down at me and shoos me forward. Like in the way you would dismiss a pest. I turn back around where suitcase guy is still blocking the aisle. I then turn back and look at her with confusion.
Very tall ferret towers over me, so she/it had to see that I couldn’t go around suitcase guy. “Did you want me to physically move him?” I asked sweetly. Her glare turned to scowl. Very tall ferret was good at non-verbal communication. Maybe she is mute? A surly, lanky polecat-type mute who also does yoga in airports.
Moments later, suitcase guy stepped aside and everyone went to their seats. The very tall ferret sat down and continued her yoga practice with hand mudras. And that’s when I contemplated my own hand mudra.
hot on elephant
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? My Marriage had to End—for my Life to Begin. The Day I Stopped Running. Why your Yoga Goals are (Probably) Irrelevant, if not Downright Dangerous. Dear Woman in the White Car at Margaritas Mexican Grill in West Memphis, Arkansas on July 15th, 2012. Overcoming the Storm by Becoming the Storm. A Toast to PTSD: The Solution Starts with One Question. Hot Love with a Leo.