Dear loudmouthed Boomer asshole in my Sunday night yoga class,
I've been quietly enduring months of your clueless bullshit: talking loudly (always about yourself) before, during and after class, harassing the teacher with your pathetic need for attention, and hanging your balls out of your shorts all summer long (I know you know, dude. YOU KNOW).
Tonight was the last straw. When you were the lone responder to a question about room temperature, you quipped, "Well, I'm the only one that matters." That would be a gauche thing to say in a yoga class normally (given the actual meanings of Day Zero yoga terms like "yoga" and "namaste," which you might learn and understand if you shut the fuck up EVER), but to make such a comment THIS WEEK, when half the country voted that nobody but old, straight, white men like you deserves any rights or representation in this country was an over-the-top thoughtless dick move characteristic of your demographic.
I hate to waste my energy cluing your privileged ass in to the fact that yoga is more than exercise for a lot of people, it's a spiritual discipline for centeredness, growth, and healing- something you wantonly destroy with your attention-sucking presence and verbal diarrhea. I hope you read this and know you're the enemy of everyone else's practice. I hope feel the appropriate amount of shame and become humbled. I hope you self-reflect and change. I hope you shut the fuck up and actually practice yoga someday.