It's happened to the best of us.
Class is going great. You're in the zone, getting a great workout, all the right muscles working correctly. Nothing's been too hard or too easy. This class was tailor-made for you, baby!
Then it happens.
The teacher gets a wild hair up his or her ass and asks you to do a triple revolté/a painintheasana/the hundred while levitating above the reformer.
Insert primal scream.
You want to gather your belongings and flee from the classroom. You want to wrap your hands around the teacher’s scrawny neck. You want to weep.
What happened to the love? And is everyone else finding this assignment completely ridiculous and gratuitous or are you a one-woman protest march?
Like an angry old man, you show your displeasure by muttering under your breath. You so want to let loose the nasty responses that flood your head -- things that would unleash shock and awe over everyone in the room. Things that might get you permanently banned from that teacher’s class, if not the studio altogether.
Here are some of these little nuggets you should think but NEVER say:
1. Oh, Hell No!
3. Oh, no she di'int!
4. Show off!
5. You want us to do what?
6. What the?
8. You tryin' to kill us?
9. You seem to want to #$%@ us with that combo, so could you at least buy us a drink first?
10. I think there’s a sadism class down the hall.
What have you been tempted to tell a dance/exercise/yoga teacher in class but not dared?