The Haymarket massage girl and Her Sunday Encounters
Blog from Joyce.
Sundays can be the simplest and yet the most enjoyable of all days for your Haymarket sensual therapist
Yesterday was one of those perfectly ordinary days that turn out to be quietly delightful. I woke up early, wrote my blog (naturally), cooked for tonight (and no, I’m not telling what’s on the menu), went for a run, did some yoga, and spent the afternoon out with a friend. Nothing extraordinary,but to me, it was just perfect. I ended the evening curled up with an episode of Mr Selfridge followed by three episodes of Sex and the City. Honestly, it doesn’t get much better than that!
I love Haymarket. It’s surrounded by everything a girl could need like bars, cafés, gyms, shops, and a beautiful mix of people. For someone like me, it’s ideal. I can finish a yoga class, walk a few minutes to meet friends for a drink, and be home within fifteen minutes if I need to change or rest.
Normally, I do yoga on Mondays (in fact, I’ll be heading there again soon), but lately I’ve added a Sunday session as well. Different day, different teacher, and this one was hilarious.
Me and my teacher
If you know anything about Haymarket, you’ll know it’s famous for two things: hot gay men and a surprisingly high number of escorts. I swear I didn’t know this when I moved here, it looks like the fate had a sense of humour!
So, there I was, stretching gracefully in my yoga class, when I realised the instructor was actually rather attractive, not distractingly hot, but just enough to keep things interesting. Every time we moved into a slow, flowing pose, he’d let out this long, exaggerated “Yeeeeaaaahhhh” sound. It was so funny that I nearly burst out laughing right there on the mat!
Now, I do take full responsibility for my slightly naughty imagination — being a self-confessed sensual soul and all, but honestly, it was impossible not to giggle. I’m quite sure he caught on to what was going through my mind, judging by the few disapproving looks he sent my way. Sorry, teacher!
So now I have a little dilemma: should I switch to another class without the dramatic “Yeeaahhh” soundtrack, or politely tell him that his vocal enthusiasm is just too funny to bear?
Until next time,
Joyce, your haymarket sensual massage therapist.
P.S.
I always knew yoga could be challenging, but not in that way!
