Things I Love to Hate (Revisited)

I hate Scrubs. Sorry Big Baby Jesus (aka Ol' Dirty Bastard), but when you were alive? You were a Scrub. For those of you who aren't familiar with the term, please listen to TLC's last album. The song? Self-explanatory.

Moving on.

I was en route this morning to Bikram Yoga practice. It was early, and I was tired because I didn't sleep so well the night before. I quickly donned my yoga gear - yoga mat, bag, large towel, spandex (I usually don't wear tiny shorts, but I'm learning the hard way that the more clothes I wear at hot stinky yoga, the harder and more complicated practice becomes), and flip flops - and headed out the door. I didn't look spectacular; my hair was in a messy up do, and I had that "I just woke up five minutes ago, so don't fuck with me" look on my face.

Enter Scrub #1. I'm waiting to cross the street, and I hear the following:

"Hey girl! You goin' to the gym! You don't need no gym. Milk does a body good."

It was fucking 9:00 a.m. It was hot. I? Have a milk allergy, and therefore cannot consume milk on a regular basis. I didn't want to explain this to Scrub #1, as I would have been late for practice. I also didn't want to talk to him, as talking would have just made the situation worse. I walked at least three hundred more feet when I hear the following. From an idle car. That was waiting. For the light to change:

"You going to the beach today?"

Scrub #2.

So I huffed a little and changed my stance. I took a minute to stare at Scrub #2 in his black Escalade or whatever he was driving, and rolled my eyes. Hard. I don't know about you, but whenever I see a person with a yoga mat in a bag my very first thought is "Wow! They must be going to yoga! Good for them!"

This monstrosity thought I was going to the beach. Lovely.

So Scrub #2 saw my eye roll and thought it was an invitation to continue his one-sided conversation.

"You know, because...I heard the beach was closed today," his voice cracked.

And then just to add insult to injury, Scrub #2's yappy rat dog kept barking at me.

Remember, I was tired? Yeah. So instead of engaging this beachmonger in conversation, I stomped on my merry little way to Bikram practice. I? Was not amused. This is probably why I have a REALLY hard time with men. Seriously.

I also hate Bikram, but that's another post for another day.