Layce and I were going into Lowes to get paint. As we walked across the parking lot toward the entrance, I asked Layce about the state of my neck. “Do you think I have a yoga neck?”
“A what?” she asked, not looking up as she studied the list of supplies we needed for painting the porch, the dining room floor, and a beautiful old rocking chair. Emma was out of town so we decided to go on a painting frenzy. Emma’s not fond of change so we do things while she’s away, take a photo, and send it to her so she has time to adjust before she experiences the change up close and personal.
“Yoga neck, you know, with the muscular cords on the side of your neck that ‘scream look at me I am super fit because I do yoga twelve hours a day.’ I do a lot of warrior, tree, and chair poses. I think I deserve a yoga neck. I’m asking for your honest opinion—do I have a yoga neck?”
She looked up from her list. “It’s got some chord action going on.”
That wasn’t an outstanding response but it was better than nothing at all. I’d have to do more yoga. “You know the other thing I want?”
“I can only imagine.”
We reached the swooshing doors. I didn’t have long before we were sucked into “paint” world. “Do you think I’m metro-sexual?” Before she could say anything, I said, “Because I think I’m very put together, my clothes match, and I’m really clean. I even clean my cross-trainers so the white sidewalls always gleam. I spend a lot of time grooming, too. In fact, I’d say I’m an excessive groomer.”
“I wondered about your clothes. You used to come downstairs wearing the weirdest stuff and I’d have to send you back up to change.”
“And sometimes you’d have to come with me because I couldn’t manage. Now look at me.” I spread my arms wide.
“How’d you manage to change?” Layce asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
“I organized my clothes so each outfit is perfectly coordinated.”
“Like toddlers with their Garanimal outfits?”
“Precisely,” I said enthusiastically. “I definitely think I’m a metro-sexual with a yoga neck.”
“If you say so,” Layce said. “Now go find a paint roller and some tape.”
I walked off happy in the knowledge that I had become just who I should be—sort of. I’d found comfort in a good neck, excessive grooming habits, and well-coordinated outfits with clean shoes—except for that one pair with the gum on the bottom, but I was working on those. Out of chaos I had found control. It was a perfect day—until I picked out the wrong paint roller but what the hell. A person can’t be everything. I mean how many yoga-necked metro-sexuals are handy people? Don’t answer that.
Get your read on!
Saxon Bennett delivers another delightful tale of true love among madcap lesbians!
This is one funny little book. The thing I liked most about this book was its diversity in its cast. How often do you have a broody Amazon, a hippy artist, a butch, a super feminine dog lover, and a midget as your main group of characters? Seriously, this book is laugh-out-loud funny and full of playful witty banter. If you’re looking for a stress-free laugh-inducing read, look no further.