Everything you heard about Californian "flakiness" is true. My first yoga class, at the Yoga Tree just off Castro, was a real eye-opener. Although I'm by now used to working in an office where straight people are in a minority (that includes the nuns), am accustomed to dodging Reiki bubbles floating from my operations director's aura, and am nearly on hugging terms with the cute hippies at Rainbow Groceries, nothing prepared me for the Rusty's class at Yoga Tree. Think "cult." Think "sect." Think "these people just don't get laid enough." So much lean flesh in spandex. So many meaningful hugs, lingering loving smiles, so much "allow your body to surrender to the luuuurve." All that was missing was a cooler full of Koolaid. Just kidding.
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