That person

The other day in yoga, we were starting class and our teacher asked how we were feeling. Was there anything specific we wanted to work on, how were we feeling, was anyone suffering? A gal in class mentioned she was suffering and her husband, who most of the time attends class with her, kind of…scoffed at her. Said something like, “Psh, give me a break.” He was joking-ish, but man, it just rubbed me the wrong way.

Listen, the suffering question was very tongue-in-cheek. We know the teacher doesn’t mean real, actual suffering. We are sitting in a yoga class on a Sunday, I’m going to assume none of us are wondering where our next meal will come from, etc. None of us are really suffering. But, you know. Scoffing at someone. Your spouse. In yoga. Just…Rubbed me the wrong way.

Towards the end of class, our teacher told a story of a husband and wife who were on a cruise. They were seated next to strangers, as happens on a cruise, and one night someone asked the man what he did for fun, what his hobbies were. And the wife, without letting her husband answer, said, “Oh, he doesn’t do anything. He has a bad knee.” And someone at the table asked a followup question and the wife answered for her husband again, “He can’t do anything; he has a bad knee.”

I can’t remember quite the point the story — something about not being reduced to one thing (“A Bad Knee”) — but it was that and the suffering comment from earlier in class that just got me thinking. I poke fun at people a lot. It’s kind of my schtick. I try to keep it all funny — there’s nothing I want less than for someone to have hurt feelings because I’m poking fun. But studying peoples’ behaviors and quirks…That’s just something I enjoy commenting on. Especially to make people (everyone) laugh. But these two incidents had me worrying I’m just an asshole like the husband in yoga class or the wife on the cruise.

I ran it by Chris, who said no, I am not an asshole. (Phew.) No one wants to be an asshole. No one wants to be that person.