No, seriously. I think that now, my legs might actually fall off.
It has been a 48 hour marathon, filled with bitchy customers, lovely customers, and customers who are challenged by the concept of tipping - and a few who know EXACTLY how to tip on Christmas Day.....100% ? Spank you very much ! Mister 5% ? Fuck You.
I have two stories for you today. I was going to dole them out, one at a time, over the next few days, to buy me an extra day of entertainment for the masses - but I'm just gonna go all out, and hope to god something interesting happens tomorrow for me to write about.
First, Boston the Dog.
Boston the Dog has found his bark, which is actually a very cute RrrrUFF RUFF kind of noise which doesn't really bug me at all. He keeps shitting on the porch - which bugs me a lot. We are trying to work on that. He is scared to death of Sami, which we are also working on, because honestly Sami is probably the gentlest man ever and the last person Boston should be afraid of. Max, on the other hand, Boston should keep an eye on. Boston also needs to keep an eye out for the neighborhood dogs. Because he is seriously pissing them off. Someday, someone is going to get out of their yard, or off their leash, and really mess his punk self up. He is cruising for a bruising.
Last night, I let Boston out. We have a number of dogs in the neighborhood, and as Boston ran down the steps, he got a wild hair and decided to visit all of them. So he takes off like a shot, while I run behind saying totally ineffectual things like "Boston come HERE" and "Boston GET BACK HERE" and muttering some very not nice things about what a bastard he was. First he runs across the street, into the yard of a large German Shepard. The German Shepard is extremely territorial, and has an invisible fence type of system keeping her in the yard. What that means is, anyone can go IN the yard, but she cannot go OUT of the yard without getting a shock from her collar.
Apparently, Boston figured this out. He tore up her driveway, and into the garage where she sleeps. He then comes galloping back down the driveway, looking over his shoulder at the huge German Shepard bearing down on him. She hits her boundary, stops short, and he keeps going, totally taunting her over his shoulder like "Neener Neener Neener, you caa-aan't get meeee" and runs around the street in circles, just out of reach. Torture.
The dog across the street now HATES Boston, and she is preparing herself for the next time he comes prancing into her yard. He is going to have his ass handed to him next time - I hope he's smart enough to figure THAT out. But he is just as cute as he is smart, and I have a feeling he'll find a way to talk her out of tearing him to shreds. Maybe he'll try to hump her or something....
He went on to visit several other neighbors, before I finally grabbed his collar and dragged him home. I was wet and muddy and pissed - but definitely NOT as pissed as the German Shepard.
Lest you begin to worry, let me reassure you - Boston isn't the only one leading a life of excitement and adventure this busy holiday week. I have another story for you - the tale of the yogini.
I observed a yoga class earlier this week. It should go without saying that there are more then a few yoga instructors on island. Maui is a very touchy-feely kind of place, people are all "in tune with themselves" and shit. And yoga is a very popular activity here.
Oh the stretching and the twisting.
So anyway, back to my observation class. I was trying to be discreet, and unobtrusive. I didn't want to distract anyone, or make anyone uncomfortable. I sat at one end of the studio, quietly watching. I did not take notes or photos, even though I was there because I am going to be writing about this instructor and notes would have been helpful.
A few minutes after class began, a man entered the studio. His presence created quite a stir. He was tall and handsome, and well, sort of the perfect physical specimen. I mean, if you are into a tanned, toned, chiseled sort of physique. Not really MY cup of tea, but I suppose some people might find that appealing..... Sorry, back to the story. This guy comes in, and rolls out his mat RIGHT in front of me. He was blocking my view of the rest of the class, as well as being, well, a foot away from me and totally in my personal space (which I guard with the zeal of a german shepard). So I move down a bit, in order to see the length of the studio. And that is when the man bends over, and starts grunting, with his (ahem) nether regions right in my face. He did have pants on - pants made of a very thin fabric, but pants nontheless. He did not, however, have any UNDERWEAR on. This was, well, distracting. Things were swinging around in a pendulous fashion, while I was trying very hard NOT to look. It was hard. It was very, very hard.
Adding to the swinging and swaying I was trying not to look at - He is one of those guys that just is never still. I cannot understand why yoga appeals to him, because seriously, he was always MOVING. He was never at rest. He never held a position. And he never seemed to be doing what everyone ELSE was doing. Either he is so A.D.D. he can't follow along, or he is so pompous and self absorbed that he didn't feel the need to go along with the program. Either way, he certainly didn't belong in a class, because he wasn't actually TAKING the class. He was doing some sort of crazy free form bullshit, throwing in weird poses where he was all twisted sideways and supporting his entire body with one arm, or doing headstands while everyone else was meditating. Plus, he was sweating so profusely, the mat and the floor around him was wet. I felt like someone should put up a cone to warn others of the puddle. He was fucking ridiculous. AND distracting to me and everyone else in the studio.
It was especially distracting when the instructor handed out straps, and demonstrated what was to be done with them. Of course, she chose this lovely man as her partner for the demonstration. So he bends over in a downward dog sort of pose, and she places the strap across his hips, with the ends of the straps hanging down on either side of him. She stood right behind him, and REACHED DOWN BETWEEN HIS LEGS to grab the straps and pull them through and out behind him. As she went to stand up with the straps in her hands, she said "you'll have to help me here" and he grabbed his package and moved it between the two straps, then re-assumed the position. I just had no idea where to look. I consider myself to be pretty open minded, but DAMN it was hard to keep from laughing with her all bent over, face in his ass, and her hands between his legs, and him holding his junk all bent over and sweating.....
Blessedly, the team exercises didn't last too terribly long, and then we went back to the more traditional yoga. Which is when Mr Excitement popped a boner.
Good. God. I almost had a stroke.
17 hours ago