Hiding from Abraham Lincoln

I should have known I'd see Rick My Yoga Teacher at Walmart, since I see him on the discount circuit (Walmart/Costco) with amazing regularity. Still, the possibility wasn't enough to get me to change out of my sweat pants. At least I noticed that my shirt was inside out before I left the house. Rick's always easy to spot, being about six foot six. In the summer, he's even easier to find. Starting in June, he travels from festival to festival, appearing as Abraham Lincoln. He grows the requisite beard, dyes his graying hair dark, and wears the stovepipe hat (yes, sometimes even in Walmart). I never want to run into him, because he is my true crush, and I'll never look as good as when I first took his yoga class, about three years ago. Which is why I hid in the housewares section.

Here is my favorite Rick memory:

I was seriously considering skipping yoga that night because of the snow. But I went. The class was small, only four other women, who came in groups of two. After a few regular vinyasas (or whatever), he suggests, since the group is so small, doing partner yoga. Crap! Once again, I'm flashing back to gym class and not getting picked. But oh, do I get picked. Since I'm non-coupled, I am Rick's partner. And he even knows my name.

I must tell you, I have not lied upon a floor, ass cheek to ass cheek, legs stretched up against legs stretched up, with another man since....well, actually I've never had reason to do that. After thirty minutes of partner yoga, for me at least, it was time for a cigarette.

For at least a week after, I felt sexy and secretive and completely invigorated.

I think the moral of the story is, wear real pants and make-up even to Walmart.