Went to the gym today and decided to check out the yoga class. As soon as I walked in the room, there was this god-awful shitty smell. Seriously, like raw sewage. Everybody piled in the room on their mats and we went at some serious yoga.
I mean, it was cool, but I thought it was weird that nobody yelled out, “What the fuck is up with that smell, yo?” Because I wanted to. It just needed to be announced. Otherwise I’m forced to assume that the other people didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary. Or maybe someone in the room ripped some serious ass before I got there. It totally ruined the vibe of being in a yoga class.
Have you ever walked into a room of ass funk? Do you feel compelled to comment on the horrific odors you’ve encountered? Do share!
I would, if only because I can’t stand being in a bad smelling room. But then again, I’m often the first one to do anything most people are embarassed to do: get in line for the buffet, ask the posh waiter who had been avoiding mentioning prices how much the menu of the day costs, etcetera.
I’d probably have asked: “Anyone else smell this? Is there a problem with the sewers on this floor?”
My normal and usual comment to such misadventures is an audible and involuntary “Goddamn” which would happen just after the whiff arrived to my nostrils. It would be without thought or judgment, much like a similar response to hitting my finger with a hammer, setting my hand down on a hot stove, running over the cat in the driveway, or having one of those commercials I hate pop up before I can hit the mute button.
Those must be some serious yoga students. Into it and all. Plus they must not be able to smell. Is that the first thing you lose with all that focused exercise? Your sense of smell?
This reminds me of the Kentucky Fried Movie spoof of the old television commercial: A woman is greeting guests at the door. The first enters, pauses, and then asks, “Fish for dinner last night?” The next enters, pauses, and then asks"Is Fred smoking those stogies again?" The third woman enters, pauses, and then asks “Christ, did a cow shit in here?”
I have a couple of tapes that I do at home. I just had Yoga for breakfast. I am thinking that it’s time to get to a Hot Yoga class to see if it is what it’s all cracked up to be.
Perhaps someone in the class was in need of a wet-wipe? I would imagine yoga positions might, ahem, “air-out” areas that are usually pretty confined. With that in mind, maybe it was just collective ass-funk from the whole class.
The night before last and last night I was minding my own business crafting on the couch as always, when a funky smell invaded the house. I don’t know if it was fertilizer from nearby, a problem with the septic tanks…?? My landlord just got a new dog but it didn’t plaster the perimeter of the house with shit. I don’t think. If it continues I must investigate further, but what a drag.
I’ve never done yoga but doesn’t it pretty much guarantee you’ll be in prime farting position for an hour or so? If I had my legs spread apart and had to cough or sneeze or something I’m pretty sure everyone in the room is going to smell my hiney.
Oh, it definitely does. The one perk about this class, though, is that if you tossed up an air biscuit no-one would be able to tell. Unless it came with, you know, noise.
I’m leaning toward sewer issue, because I don’t think one person could create that intense an aroma alone. Maybe there was a synchronized shitting class beforehand? The funniest thing was the yoga teacher. I think she wanted to say something but she was trying to get everyone to relax… she could have been like, “We’re going to center ourselves, relax… oh my God what the FUCK is that?!”
All I can add is that Pilates seems to have a similar effect on, at least, the woman who was in front of me in class last night. No sound, but a …warm wind…and a one-woman synchronized shitting kind of a smell. I agree that there are some, er, cleansing positions in each kind of class, but I don’t understand why someone would indulge in an afternoon’s-worth of risket and warm potato salad beforehand. I don’t know for certain that that’s what she did, but there was ample evidence for a conjecture.
Once, years ago, I walked in to work and immediately said, “Gads, it smells like a cat shit in here!” BWAH from co-workers. A cat had shit in there, as a matter of fact. Somehow got into the building (it was a very old, dilapidated building, and we were the last to occupy it before it was condemned), couldn’t get out and shit on the floor. They had removed the substance but not the odor. I offered to sacrifice my purse-sized vial of perfume, but they said, “No…then it’ll just smell like a cat shit in a hothouse.”
Ha! I can beat you all! I work in a dairy plant that is open for tours and that also has a store where you can buy dairy-based yummy treats. Imagine, if you will, the following:
A bus full of retires+dairy foods+small public bathroom=OLD LADY ASS STENCH
I cried, it was horrible. There was a line of fat little old ladies waiting, and writhing, and a handful who looked much-relieved. Their releif was splattered all over the toilet bowl and the stench of the relief was crawling up my nose and permiating every fiber of my clothes. It was HORRIBLE!!!
