<STARTS 10.1.02
NOVEMBER 16, 2002
MY SUMMER WITH THE MOVIE STAR
CHAPTER TWENTY
If you guessed until your eyes crossed, and you had to beg me to tell you, you would never hit on what was behind the sleazy curtains at good old 7904 Westwood Boulevard.
It was a Yoga class. And he signed me up for it on the spot. He didn't even bother to ask if I was interested in all that mind and body are interrelated crap. He just stood at the front desk, which was really only a rickety, yellow library table like we have at school, with his checkbook open, and gave the woman my name and age and his home address, not mine. She put me down for every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. But I didn't have to start Wednesday because class was already half over, one reward I must have stored up in heaven.
"Spirit, mind and body work together as a unit," he said, when we got outside. "Don't let anyone try to tell you they are separate because they're not. One of the ways to raise the quality of your spirit is to attend to the needs of your body, to certain physical disciplines and procedures. Yoga is one. I want you to have this opportunity, Sylvia, because I believe you are worth the trouble and the money. You are valuable to me, dear child, but you surely know that by now."
"But how…how could I possibly be valuable to you," I asked him. Maybe I did sound frantic, but, after all I wanted him to think of me as something more than just Miss Nimblefingers at her hot keyboard. "You haven't taken me to the Brown Derby or anywhere all the time I have been up there, and Carol's always around, and all I ever do for you is the typing, which any moron could do. So how am I valuable?"
We were underway in his car, but I hardly realized we were moving, I was so wrapped up in finding out, once and for all, where I stood in the recesses of his mind.
"Be certain that you are valuable, that's all. Something else, Sylvia, please try to watch your delivery when you are excited. You tend to whine. It is not attractive."
(To be Continued)
4:15:50 PM 
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