Today I heard a really funny story from a friend, and I’d like to share it with you all. My friend actually wrote the entire thing out for me, and I hope you enjoy!
“I’ve begun morning yoga in the drawing studio here at the school of art. I didn’t bring a mat with me, but after using nothing but a towel for the first couple of days, I’ve been joined by a friend who has two mats, and yoga has gotten much better. But I really wanted a mat of my own, and I knew just where to get one.
Up the hill from our dormitories is a small gym that I used to frequent two summers ago for the occasional workout. I remembered a stack of yoga mats and I set my mind to borrowing one for the summer.
There’s only one way into the gym, and the walkway is guarded by a green-shirted staffer wielding a laser gun to scan your gate pass. Getting in was no problem, of course, thanks to my gate pass. I smiled at the attendant, he scanned my card, and I made my way inside, down the hall, and into the gym. I signed in at the clipboard, smiled at the guys working the desk, and headed in to the main weight room. I cast about a bit, not really wanting to be at the gym but having decided to get in something of a workout before making off with the yoga mat. Eventually I planted myself on an exercise bike and began a fifteen minute ‘heartrate’ workout. I chose level 12 (out of 20), but quickly ratcheted down to eight. I looked around at the scattering of bros lifting weights to my left and the white-haired man shooting hoops to my right and thought about how hot and stuffy it was in the gym and how if my bike were fixed I could be outside doing the same thing.
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