A wee bit snug

So, you know I've recently become somewhat addicted to hot yoga, and sweet fancy Moses are my muscles in distress as a result (but in a good way; I swear). While profuse perspiration isn't usually at the top of my list of favorite activities, I do enjoy a good challenge from time to time, and I can already tell I'm getting stronger and more flexible. Plus, it just feels really awesome to balance with my heel stretched near the top of my head for a whole minute. *Pats self on back*

Well, a couple of days ago I attended a class that challenged me in more ways than one. This class wasn't a typical hot yoga session. The room was heated only to 90 degrees, and we were to perform the postures at a swifter pace than usual, with a few really hard poses thrown in for good measure. I was looking forward to it.

So, I arranged my mat and towel and sank to the floor for some pre-class stretching. A minute or so later, in walks the instructor -- in shorts that were short and tight to the point of nearly total distraction (for those of you readers who were with me that fateful night in Dallas so many years ago, think Brian Boitano in those brown pants as he skated to "Shenandoah"). And, well ... I can't think of a polite way to say this. The man SHOULD NOT have been thus attired without some sort of ... you know ... barrier. It was scandalous! And, to add to my intense struggle to keep from giggling, the class was part of what they call the wood series. I'm not even kidding.

Anyway, this instructor was actually really nice and helpful, though at one point, when I was lying on my back with my legs in the air, he did grab and massage my right knee, murmuring, "Your knee. It feels ... funny." How does one respond to such a comment?