When I can actually get up the energy, I like to trek down to the East Village for some free yoga at “Yoga to the People.” That’s right, FREE. As in, donations only. As in, sometimes I give just a dollar all folded up so it looks like a wad. I think they’re onto me, but no one even cares. We’re all there because we’ve decided stuff like, I don’t know, PEZ is a luxury. Also, it’s really unpretentious and one of the teachers is this unbelievably sexy Australian dude with the kind of tattoos that put Sean William Scott’s to SHAME.
I was talking it up to one of my friend’s who just moved here, and piqued her interest with my insistence that there’s minimal if any chanting, and very few refs to Vinyasa anything. And, sure, it feels like Bikram in the summer time when sweat is dripping into your corneas, but that’s the price you PAY. It’s the only price. Did I mention it’s free??!?!
Anyways, my friend and I met up once there, and I’ve been a lazy bum about getting back ever since. She, however, has been going more and more regularly, and saw MARY-KATE OLSEN in her class the other day. WHAT?!? Isn’t that, like, borderline offensive? Couldn’t she afford her own guru? Couldn’t she, like, BUY India? If she so pleased. If I know MK (and I think I DO) I’m gonna go with YES.