Day 281: yoga boy II.

So last night, instead of having a band jam, I went to yoga. It was a bit hit and miss as to whether I'd go because I had to go home first to grab my gear, but I went anyway. And yoga boy was there again. Now, I'm so sick of myself at this point, that I really, truly resolved to talk to him after class. I mean, here's a totally masculine, heterosexual, unhippyish, hot boy who likes doing my favourite kind of yoga, and I'm ninnying around wondering what if? Better to dive in, get completely slammed (or pleasantly surprised) and then move on with my life, than keep being a gutless loser right? So I did my class, full of renewed conviction and focus (it was awesome), and then left the yoga room determined to casually and charmingly make yoga boy contact. Naturally, he'd chosen that night to shower in record time and leave before I could get a fingernail to him (he probably had a date). However. Before I had the chance to be sad about my thwarted mission, I noticed something. Another yoga boy. This one was darker of hair, deeper of voice and slightly more evil of general demeanor. In a good way. And he was talking about drinking alcohol. Didn't I say just the other day a drinker was in my future (now I'm not only a genius, I'm psychic too!)? Well looky looky here...