The Yoga Date

On Paper

Yoga; the physical, mental, and spiritual practice to fuel your body and mind.

Or update your tricks in the bedroom; downward dog, high lunge, standing split…
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In Reality

His Tinder profile read…

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6ft 2
Professional Rugby player

“Laura – I’ve found him.”

“Who?”

“The One.”

I smugly showed my housemate:

“Yeah he’s actually quite hot.”

Then my housemate played a horrible trick as she was insanely jealous of my match.

We began messaging and he suggested an idea…

“What are your thoughts on spontaneity?”

“I’m game for anything!”

 (I’m the funnest person in the world – love me.)

 “How do you feel about doing Yoga tomorrow?”

I’d rather slide down a wall of razor blades into a pool of alcohol.

 “Yeh great! Can’t wait.”

So came the evening of the date (I was still trying to think up excuses on how to cancel on yoga and came to the only solution.)

Get him bollocksed so the only downward dog he will be doing will be onto my arse.

“Shall we get a drink before yoga – calm the first date nerves?”

“Don’t think you’re meant to drink before but I suppose we could have one?”

We met outside the station and he hit me with the first bombshell:

“I can only have a really small glass as I’m driving.”

unimpressed-cat

So we ordered two (miniscule fucking) glasses of red and began chatting, I was ready for the usual conversation I have with rugby lads: “When did you get your norks done?” …

But then he hit me the second bombshell:

“Debs, why do you do the blog – is it because you’re scared of getting hurt?”
“Well, I dunno…”
“You can be honest”

“… Maybe I am scared a little”

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(Absolute bullcrap – I find first dates hilarious and no one ever asks for a second.)

The conversation continued into my passed relationships that had led me to this troubled life.

(My last actual boyfriend was when I was 18 and we used to compete on how many times we could cheat on each other.)

We headed to Yoga arm in arm, went into the studio and took our seats near the front. The lighting was candle lit, the room completely silent other than the calm soothing sounds from the stereo (and me).

“Debbie you can’t sit on my mat.”

“I am shitting myself, you said this was beginners class – what is that woman doing?”

“She’s just stretching…”

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The (beautiful) Australian instructor walked in and everyone took their mats.

Oh for fuck sake…

“Get your mat, we’re moving.”
“Why?!”
“We are not staying at the front where everyone will see my body convulsing.”

And she began..

“Now Inhale and Exhale…Inhale and exhale…”

I relaxed a little – I’ve always been good at breathing.

Then things got a little more complicated:

“Now kneel on your mats and begin… half tortoise pose, stretch out to half locust, full locust, to cobra, and lift… Downward dog.”

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I surveyed the room and my date in full concentration performing every move with ease.

So I poked him.

“Oi, what was she chatting about locust?”

“Debbie shhh..”
“Don’t shh me!”

“Just follow what everyone else is doing…”

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As the class went on she continued yelling out Noah’s Ark however I had turned my attention to something else.

“Debs it’s getting really hot do you mind if I take my top off?”

“No…”

I’ve never been more ok with something in my entire life.

I wasn’t the only one to notice… the instructor suddenly decided he needed extra attention:

“Ok, if you just rest your knee on this block –and the other on here.”

Oh and let me guess – rest his penis in your vagina?!

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I had to think quickly. The class was slowly going from strength to flexibility poses.

I might have absolutely no spiritual ability…
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She listed a few poses.

But I took things into my own hands.

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The class came to an end, my date was impressed by my display:

“You’re quite bendy?”

“Oh I used to do Olympic gymnastics.”

On some occasions it’s best to white lie then tell the truth ..

I watch too much porn.

He drove me back to my house… and dropped the final bombshell of the evening.

“I really enjoyed this evening Debbie”

“Me too…”

I have had the greatest night of my life.

“Would it be ok to take you on a second date?”

Cost: To see a professional athlete bending – money is no object.

Dangerous Rating: …

I returned home feeling a little “Zen”.

“Laura – Dangerous Debbie is over! I’m starting a new blog.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself”
“I’m not…”
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We had our second and third date. On the fourth, I was ready to make it official – we mated.

After we lay there, wrapped in each other arms, dreaming of our futures together and he hit me with one last bombshell.

“Debbie I can’t stay here tonight.”

I knew he had also never experienced such passion in his life – it was all too overwhelming, but thought I’d play ignorance.

“Why?”

“I’m just lying here, and I can’t stop wishing…”

That we were married… pop the fucking question.

“That it was my ex-girlfriend here and not you.”

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NOTHING OUT OF 10.

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