The man steps forward, grumbling something that sounds an awful like that motherfucker is going to owe me as he reaches a shaky hand for the pen on the counter. I watch as he scratches in all caps, skipping entire sections, marking other ones with NONE OF YOUR GODDAMN BUSINESS. Woof. I can tell he’s quite the character. And tense from head to toe. “Have you done yoga before? What’s your experience level?” “Never. Sounds like a bunch of baloney to me, but I’ll try it anyway.” He pushes the incomplete form back to me, and I let out a genuine laugh at his blunt honesty. My gaze drops to his name
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