2002-04-09 - 8:33 p.m.

Hello?

nervous male voice," Um, hi, I'd like to.. um.. place an order."

Sorry, we're not taking orders

"You're...you're not?"

NO! What number are you trying to call

Click.

10 minutes later, repeat. 10 minutes after that, same thing. But I think they're different voices. All male, some nervous. The third time I finally got it.

Hello! (snarled)

"Hi! Are you taking orders for tonight?"

Uh, yes. What would you like?

"My name's Max. The same two I had last time."

You have the wrong number.

Click.

A whoo-ah house. They gave me the old number of a whorehouse. That was so wrong - and I changed it the next day. But it was pretty funny, even at the time. I had forgotten all about until Jerry brought it up tonight. I don't think it ever occurred to me that there would be regular numbers for whorehouses, aside from just the 800 and 900 escort numbers. Just never thought about it, I guess. I have, since then, had the interesting occasion to have a little conversation with some hookers, so I have since been enlightened. But that's a story for another day.

Last night I went to yoga with J. And do you know what they did, the Y0ga Z0ne? They bait-and-switched me. J and I showed up at 6, both of us leaving work early, all excited about taking Charles class. Not. They posted an OLD schedule on the website. I was quite indignant, but I had rode the elevator up with the teacher and we talked a little about the class and whether it was too advanced for me. She told me I should come take it, so I did, dragging J with me. And it was fabulous. The best class since Charles. So it worked out after all. Jand I are going to go weekly. Only thing is, she ended the class with the Scorpion. Know what that is? It's CONTORTIONAL, that's what. You (supposedly) support your entire body on your lower arms and hands, and kick your legs up and back over your head, so your body forms a backwards C. Supposed to STRETCH you. Kill you, more like it. I watched in amazement as the woman next to me effortlessly pushed herself up into it. I took a look down at my scrawny chicken arms, and said no way. The guy next to me gave me a big lecture about how it's not about your upper body strength, you use your whole body, it's balance. Ha! You might as well tell me I can travel to the center of the earth in a paper bag. It seems about that feasible. But I'm determined to do it by the end of the year. I realize that's a very loose and prolonged time frame, but hey, gotta walk before I run.

Are you sick to death of my yoga-talk? I swear to you I'm not going to take up macrame and stop shaving my legs.

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