You Look Like Me

There is a woman who comes to the Wednesday 60-minute yoga class, who always sets up by me. She is shorter than me by about a foot, but we both have similar hair cuts.

Today, she breezed by me in the hallway and I watched her setup next to me in the studio. Then, she made the brazen move of opening up the window.

Gasp!

I love it, but other people in the class get mad. Apparently they love extreme heat and hate fresh air.

Jerks!

After my typical behavior of avoiding the hot room until 10-minutes before class, I walked in and laid down. She looked at me, and in her thick Eastern European accent, said, “You look like me. Even your hair looks like me.”

I knew she was commenting on where on the planet my people are from, so I asked her where she was from.

“Polish/Austrian” she replied.

After searching some family records a few years ago, I can confidently say that I am a bunch of things, but there seems to be some Polish/Austrian influence on top of the just plain Polish influence.

So I told her this.

She asked me what my last name was, and I said, “Uzarski!”

The woman laughed right out loud.

Before I could ask her why she was laughing, class started and we had to shut our pie holes.

Hopefully I see her soon, because she has me on the edge of my Polish/Austrian seat.

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