Yoga Even Sounds Like The Name Of A Cult

I'm completely convinced that the people who take yoga classes at my gym are part of some fanatical right wing republican cult. One of the boxing classes I teach precedes a yoga class. Now, I happen to like the instructor who teaches the class, but some of the participants are a bunch of nut cases. Fifteen minutes before my class ends about a dozen yoga people huddle around the door of the studio like cattle preparing for a stampede. Maybe, they think there's a prize for being the first one through the door. I imagine these same people setting their alarm clocks to get up early in the morning, then driving half-way across town to be the first one in line to catch an early bird special at Walmart on toaster ovens. They make me laugh trying their best to antagonize me with their stares, as though I might cut my class short to accommodate their neurotic behavior. When I finally do end class, they rush in to get their mats and secure a spot on the floor where they think the air is best for breathing. No one talks. Talking must have been banned by the cult leadership. Or maybe, their higher understanding has allowed them to telepathically communicate to one another. That must be it. The unassuming and silent types are the ones you have to watch out for. Come to think of it, my back hurts. One of them must have put roots on me.