The Night I Lost My Virginity

You have made it this far, so you deserve to know more. I have promised myself that any embarrassing moment I felt did not paint me in a positive light would be considered carefully…and then thrown into the pot. And why not? We all have done it, or we wish to have done it, or we want to do it in the near future as soon as possible. From the loneliest basement dweller to the most desperate housewife flipping through a Harlequin romance, it is on all of our minds. And this might offer some insight on how to get more of it in one’s own life and to actually enjoy it. After all the embarrassing other moments in my life that you have read about – the hot air balloon fiasco; the questionable reallocation of funds at the Vatican; my role in the breakup of Charles and Diana, etc. – this needs to be discussed.

It was a beautiful night. After the day’s promise of rain, hail, tornados and the occasional earthquake, I did not think that I would make it home in one piece. In fact, I was not going to be making it home at all that day. Instead, I had a class to take.

As I mentioned, I attended high school, college, university, various private courses to expand on what I thought I learned in these other institutions, and continued to educate myself with libraries and my own personal book-hunting. This meant ignoring the needs of my body and gaining a considerable about of extra flesh that I did not need. So, one more class had to be taken.

Yoga.

I must admit that I found it difficult to find the time for such a class. My work as a college instructor, freelance writer, babysitter and traffic warden ate up a great deal of time. But I was fortunate enough to teach near a school that was open quite late on weekends. The strange thing now is that I was often the only one who would show up with such a schedule, especially on a Sunday when most of the other students wanted to prep for the week of work ahead (my work did not begin until the evenings when rush hour traffic became very heavy). I was given a great deal of special treatment and am still grateful for this.

Let me warn you now… This next section will not be pretty.

I entered the studio and noticed that Ms. Yumiko was there all by herself. She was very young for all the responsibilities she had (I knew the feeling). Her last relationship was clearly over (the ring was gone), and I thought that she would be upset at such a small class, but no, not at all. She was quite pleased to see me.

Very, very pleased.

“Good evening, Ms. Yu.”

“Oh, my. Ms. Yu? You know that you can call me…”

I promised myself I would not give too much information here. I called her Ms. Yumiko because that is as close to a reveal as I can give without upsetting certain parties.

“Are you ready for the class?”

I looked around the room. From the one set of windows nearest the entrance, I could see traffic moving down the highway, a beautiful line of lights.

“Is it okay if it is just me?”

She stood on the tatami and smiled at me, some of the fluorescent light catching the highlights in her hair. She stretched up to the light and exhaled as she spoke.

“Oh, it is so okay with just you.”

And then she turned to the radio she always brought to the class and pressed play.

Now, I do not mind new age music. Usually, we had it on to block out traffic, the buzz of the lights, the coughing and farting of certain students, and to put us all in the right mind set. I was becoming very familiar with Enya and her complete discography by then (still a pleasant way to recall things...sail away, sail away, sail away...).

“So, are you ready?”

I put my mat down and rolled it out.

“I think so. I have been practicing…”

She stood over me and beamed an interesting smile.

“I see… Well, show me.”

Now, I should explain that we usually had a standard routine with our classes: basic poses followed by more intense breathing exercises and then, for those who could do the more difficult ones, an advanced class. Ms. Yumiko – Yu – would take a pause between sections and take on the groups. I was never in the last class, and I think that she was concerned about this.

“You are so lucky today. You have me all to yourself.”

I sat on my legs (first position) and ignored the pain.

“Um, you mean…?”

“Yes! I can show you all the moves without having to read them out!”

And she did.

We had downward facing dog and cat, frog poses, deer poses, lotus position, swaying tree, energetic badger, aggressive tadpole and many others that I never studied or heard of before (Ms. Yu was very hands on and I trusted her).

“Put your legs forward and stretch.”

I did.

“Grab my arms and let me rest them on your shoulders.”

I did.

“Try and engage my torso this way…”

I did.

“And then that way.”

I certainly did.

“We don’t need to worry about that position tonight. I just wanted to make sure you got it right.”

I think I did.

As I said, it was a beautiful night. We would continue to practice for many Sundays both at the studio, my home – my roommates still did not believe what I was able to do in our apartment – her place, several hotels and motels off the beaten track, and then it was all over.

And why did I say it was not going to be pretty?

Well, it was just supposed to be a yoga class, not the night when the most significant event of my life so far – sorry, Charles and Diana – took place in a studio full of old tatami and a well-used set of yoga mats. Ms. Yu was very flexible and skilled in so many ways that I wondered if I was doing something wrong (did not even manage to pay her for her time).

There was so much more for me to learn.

*

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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