As soon as I walked in, however, the Hampden Bikram studio defied my expectations. I'd been preparing for a stinging cloud of incense smoke accompanied by the tingling of prayer bells and monks ohming on the hi-fi. Instead I was welcomed with the Christmasy crooning of the coolest man in history, Mr. Dean Martin, singing "Baby, It's Cold Outside," which, if you haven't heard it, is just the sweetest date-rape duet ever. Sure, a few things came off the way I expected. In every men's locker room, be it boot camp, boxing gym, or yoga studio, there's one guy whose uncomfortably comfortable with his body. (Seriously, guy, how do you find so much to do in the men's room and think so much of it is best accomplished naked?) But otherwise the place was shockingly welcoming, even for a big square like me.