Here’s a true story from a few years ago:
I was traveling through Vietnam. I saw a flyer in my hotel about outdoor yoga classes overlooking some beautiful terraced rice fields. That seemed like fun so I went down to check it out the next morning. I got there for a 10 am class. The instructor was gorgeous, and looked pretty much what you would think a Vietnamese yoga instructor would look like. She was quite small in all ways. Short, thin, but well muscled. She was clearly in great shape. I was 26 at this point, she was 29 but looked younger. She had straight black hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore pink yoga pants and a black tank top. Unfortunately the top was kind of baggy and covered her butt, so I couldn’t see it. I really wanted to, judging by her thighs I was sure it would be very impressive. I was one of the few men in the class, and the only person that came alone. I don’t do a lot of yoga, but I instinctively started trying hard in order to impress her. I tried to play it cool during the class, and not look like I was staring at her. I realize now, that it wouldn’t seem odd for me to be watching my instructor.