Barry’s Yogic Tension

PlankThis is just embarrassing, he moaned in his mind as the class shifted into Warrior 3.  Over the shaking of his right thigh he could see Sam, calm and collected, smoothly inching down into the pose for a deeper burn.  He’s putting me through torture, literal torture for this promotion.  Sam had everyone else at the company convinced that he was an earth-loving, mild-mannered champion of a boss, but Barry knew better.  His mother had been a vegan yogi, and the harshest, most manipulative person he knew.  The anniversary of her death was his happiest day each year.  So when Sam asked him to come to a 90-minute cardio yoga class in between sessions at the sales conference, he knew what to expect.  Enforced shame and physical degradation, he concluded as they held a plank (“just for fun!”) for 5 minutes.  Yoga was the perfect way to force underlings to demonstrate their considerable weaknesses.  As he collapsed onto his knees after 3 minutes and saw Sam’s condescending smirk, he knew that his Christmas bonus would not be coming this year.

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This entry was posted in A Dying Dream, Athletics, Careers, Character, Competition, Mental Illness, Monologue, Relationships, Workplace. Bookmark the permalink.

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