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The Untidy Garden Blog

Brooklyn Part 3: Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Take Me In (And Let Me Go)

Julie

Sunday morning I decided to go to a yoga studio that had an 8am class.

There were 2 people there when I went inside. One lady was so cut. You might think the buzzed head and safety pin belly button ring may have had influence on my opinion, but I swear she was the best yogi I have ever seen. So, after being corrected for walking off the mat in my shoes, instructor Bibi asked me if I was familiar with Ashtanga yoga. Well, what is your definition of familiar exactly?….then she asked if I was familiar with Mysore, and I told her I had never heard of that before. Oh, I forgot to mention, the class was 1 hr 45 minutes long. One hour and forty-five-whole-minutes. It sounded like a long time to me, but it was the only class that worked with my schedule.

I thought musclewoman next to me was just showing off/warming up but there was never an official start time. Bibi informed me that Mysore was a type of Ashtanga yoga where the yogis memorized all the movements of Ashtanga and then built on their knowledge each class. So here I am not able to follow the teacher or blend in with the crowd. Bibi was very kind to walk me through some of the steps, but she used yoga terms, and I don’t know yoga terms. So I would do a set of moves and then just stand at the end of my mat until she assisted me again. After an hour of this she said that was enough for today and that I could go ahead and take savasana. (AKA, you’re done with this session, Yoga dork.) Call me yoga dork for the rest of my life.

So I rewarded myself with an iced coffee at Bittersweet (and a doughnut). Ahem.

After the yoga drama and caloric recuperation, it was time to hop on the subway and head for LaGuardia. I had to get on a couple different trains and buses to get to the airport, and by the time I got there I had 15 minutes until boarding time. I RAN to the kiosk. It didn’t let me check in.

I 100% cut in line to talk to a Delta rep. She told me I was late. Hmmm. (Great observation.) She still printed my boarding pass and told me to RUN to catch the shuttle – I did.

I was sweating it out because I hadn’t even attempted the security line yet….there was an introductory security line before you got to the actual security line. Oh great. I said, “This is not the security line, right?” Wrong.

A kind gentleman said, if it helps, you can cut in front of me, but I would try talking to a TSA agent. I didn’t push my luck. Another gentleman overheard me and said if he were in my position he would beg his way to the front – I did. Even the foreigners who didn’t speak much English understood my pleas. I made it through BOTH security lines in less than 5 minutes and at my gate at 12:25pm. The priority boarders hadn’t even gotten on yet.

Whew.

Oh the generosity of strangers! I didn’t think I was going to make it.

Here is what I learned most from the trip: don’t be afraid to ask things of strangers. I asked for directions; I asked for floral advice; I asked for food recommendations; and I asked to cut in a 1.5 hour long security line. Be nice. Smile. Talk to the bus driver. Say thank you. And although I don’t do those things for what I could get out of them, it sure as heck doesn’t hurt.