Am I Really Leaving this City with all these Restaurants?

I get into a lot of conversations every day (on top of friends, acquaintances, co-workers, and roommates, there are the strangers of daily life as well as an average of maybe 100 customer interactions per day, 94% or so of whom are completely new faces).  And I encourage and elicit as much conversation from these people, the strangers that is, as I can because it's a fucking treasure trove of information and randomness with hundreds of life stories and perspectives and outlooks on life, suggestions of and opinions about music, books, movies, Broadway shows, bars, restaurants, book readings, podcasts, websites cultural events, sites in NY and elsewhere, free things you can do or acquire, how food stamps work, how to be happy, what it's like to be a new mother or father, what it's like at 6 months, what it's like at 20 years and 58 years, politics and economics, the places they're from, and everywhere they have lived and to which they've ever traveled, their career and how they got to where they are and where they plan to go from here, and then I get to tell my stories to them, my semi-captive little audiences of 1-3 people, typically.

It's really hard to leave this.  And I feel like a total dork about this, but I really need to see how much of it is Trader Joe's and how much it is Trader Joe's in NY.  I need to see what my cash register conversations are like in Boston because they have become a hugely important aspect of my life to me.  I already know I'll have fewer of my little audience victims.  And you know, we all talk sometimes about how being on the cash register can get boring or taxing etc. and groan about it a bit.  But, really, if I don't do it at all some days, I miss it.  I want to do it for about 3 hours a day, I think.  One or two hours in a row at a time.

But anyhow, in a disproportionate percentage of these conversations, my customers end up wondering if I've ever considered doing some yoga.

And part of me resents the suggestion because I mean I haven't lived under a fucking rock my whole life.  Yes, I've fucking done it, for 2 different 6-months sessions, I regularly and diligently practiced yoga 2-3 times per week,* and it's painful.  I just prefer Western methods of working out is all, but what I do want, is to go to a class where we just do savasana.  I know I could meditate on my own, but, as the fucking American I happen to be, I won't do it unless I pencil it in and attend a class where someone else makes me do it.

I suppose I could just awkwardly show up to the last 5-10 minutes of all the yoga classes at my YMCA, but I just feel like that would be awkward.  Then again, that thought created a little fun fantasy in my head where maybe after 3 or 4 weeks when people would catch on to what I was doing, some of them would just erupt into laughter during savasana and then it would be contagious and'd end in this totally awesome scene where all these post-yoga work out women (mostly), including the teacher, were all just rolling around and giggling on the floor together.  How delightful would that be?  I just feel like that's a potential human experience that isn't happening enough on this planet.

But also maybe someone should just start a yoga class that's an albeit somewhat ironically conceived Forced Savasna class.

And maybe to get that exhausted release and surrendering effect, you just let people work out in their own little Western Tradition way, and then just all meet at 12:50 P.M or whatever for 10 minutes of corpse pose.

*Okay the first 6 month sessions was a bi-weekly college gym-ish credit class I needed to fulfill, which I missed just exactly the most amount of times we were allowed to miss without it affecting our grade, and we performed less yoga than being the yoga teacher's literally captive audience as he rambles on about his life and inspiring and/or deep-sounding yoga stories.  (Now that I think about it, it was a lot like church.  Hmm, you meet for an hour, listen to a guy talk about his own life and spiritually inspirational stories about the power of the things we're here talking about, every so often actually practicing the things we preach, yup, it all checks out.)  But the second 6 months I really was choosing on my own**to attend consistently 2-3 times per week these way more intense hour-long sessions of various forms and difficulty levels of yoga.

**Unless you count the pressure from my roommate who'd persuaded me to start doing yoga with her.  If I recall correctly, she actually bartered me something to get me to agree to start going with her.  But after the first class, it was my choice.  And I won't even go into my tangent here about what I've come to term Competitive Yoga, except to say that I think it makes a great band name.

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