Finding Ways Around my Situation
I tell you, friends, my life is a mid-90s network sitcom. Lola insisted on accompanying me to my yoga class last week, and Tessa was, as always, there. I don’t know how I pulled it off, but I did. A regular Zack Morris, this old chap. You see, I first reiterated with Lola that yoga class is a silent affair, and that one must be solemn and serious for the exercise to take full effect. And then I situated her in the back row, and Tessa (good old lass) in the front. I told both (separately, of course!) that to do yoga next to their godly beauty is to be blinded and distracted, so I would be forced to place myself in the middle, safely away from both. And guess what, gentle readers? It worked! I of course extricated myself rather charmingly at the end of the night, so as not to face the unenviable prospect of choosing one for a night out and raising the suspicions of the other. All in all, I’m happy with how it went. I went promptly home and, with a sifter or two of fine brandy, proceeded to pour over phone listings that helped me to find people now. I also read a lovely article about choosing the perfect television: Flatscreens Demystified.