No one ever said i was P.C.

...and if they did, they didn't know me terribly well.

It is a widely accepted postulate that there are good people and there are bad people. It is only a little less well-known that there are good New York Jews and bad New York Jews, just like there are good and bad other kinds of people (like good stubborn Mainers and bad stubborn Mainers. I'm the good kind). Well, last night i had a hippy-New York-Jew in my yoga class. And he was the bad kind.

He's usually in the "gentler class," which is why i was willing to accept his rather loud gruntings and groanings of release and discomfort. I wasn't willing to just consider him obnoxious for that. I was happy for his ability to proudly display his gut whenever we raised our hands over our heads. Seriously. Go him! But then he didn't fold up the blanket very well, saying in a nasally voice that i tried really hard not to be annoyed by, "what's the point of folding it up? The next class is just going to use them anyway." I replied as nicely as i could, "Because it's respectful." And left it at something like that. He was a real friendly fellow, and smiled a lot.

Upstairs where people were parttaking of the free tea and water available, i refilled my nalgene with the cold water and my travel mug with the hot water. He practically cornered me on my way out the door, asking if i had taken hot water, and then pleaded with me to only put hot water in stainless steel or glass. "There are chemicals that they use to treat the plastic, and some of those are released when you put hot water in it. Please at least consider getting a stainless steel one. I know, because i held onto my plastic Harvest Mug for years (hahaha), but really, i heard about it, and it's really not a good idea." He just kept talking at me about all this hippy health shit with his nasally voice and his chronic determinism to get his point across. I tried my best to be polite, despite the urge to say, "You know, shut up. We all die someday." So i interrupted with the only true thing i could think of, "I'm sorry, but i have to meet someone," as i fled the studio without looking back.

Maybe it's just that i'm PMSing (she writes as she eats chocolate bits out of a jar full of peanut butter with a spoon. Maybe PMSing.), but the bad kind of hippy New York Jew just really piss the fuck out of me.