"Okay Lay Down" said the naked Korean lady

Okay so she wasn’t entirely naked. She had on matching bra and undies, black. All the little old Korean ladies did. It’s a good thing too or else their clothes would be soaking wet with all this humidity. So anyways, I’m actually naked, sweaty and she tells me to lie down on the plastic table, which looks like it was recently washed from the last female client. I’m at a Korean bathhouse for the first time, excited and nervous. Most of all I’m ready to get manhandled like a piece of meat that needs salting and marinating.

A couple of weeks ago a mom from my son’s martial arts class suggested we go. A new Angelina she has only been here for a short while but came across a goddessly spa experience she wanted to share with me. As she’s describing it in her beautiful Mexican accent, I’m super intrigued.

“They scrub every inch of your body. Then they wash your hair. And you just lay there. Jacuzzi, sauna, rooms with warm floors to take naps.”

I’m sold “Whoooaa…LETS DO IT!”

She is just as excited as I am and makes a reservation for both of us. Unfortunately, her kiddo got sick so I didn’t have a partner for my first trip. Personally I think it was for the better. It was a lot of new. A lot. Like running around wet and naked as though we were all living in mythic Lemnos. I love new experiences but I still get nervous and new experiences and I, we do better 1 on 1.

As soon as I walk through the doors I have to walk down a slight ramp to get to the check-in counter. I notice the great lighting and transparent shelving for Korean anti-aging products. I think I’d get this lighting in heaven.  But something caught me a little off guard. I see that at the end of the hallway/ramp I’m greeted with a metal detector…. I’m not kidding. I almost laughed out loud. In heaven there is a strategically placed metal detector. I immediately start thinking of why this would be and you’re welcome for my imagination. I think of older female participants in organized crime. I want to think of a movie where someone’s died in a bathhouse and can’t think of one… but I could totally see this in a scene from “Casino”. So after trying to check in without a problem and failing miserably, I realize how deep my ignorance is and let the nice young Korean girls behind the counter know “I’m just here for the ride”. I get some cute giggles and finally they’ve found my friend’s reservation for me. Now its time for a tour.

The young Korean girl delicately takes me through these massive ominous wooden doors and I immediately feel the hand of fate guiding me. She shows me that I have a locker for my shoes and a locker for my clothes, which also holds my towel and robe. I’m then shown the main bathhouse where the showers, multiple different kinds of Jacuzzis and saunas are. She gently brings attention to my clothed body and lets me know I need to shower thoroughly then soak my skin in one of their spa amenities until my number is called.

So generally, I’m clinically comfortable with my body, which basically means I’m practical. In the gym lockers I’m not an exhibitionist but I don’t mind getting undressed fully in front of other women. If a doctor tells me to disrobe, I don’t bat an eyelash. In this case there was nothing to busy myself with after showering except find a quiet place to wait without having to make eye contact with anyone… I scan the Jacuzzis and there are women of all kinds, which is really cool. A lot of older women, some with hardened looks on their faces like they grew up doing this as a cultural expectation and others with small smiles, clearly gringas basking in their spa day and welcome to a convo if it comes their way. I decide against any body of water or place I can make eye contact and beeline for my happy place: the steam room. Yeah baby. I instantly felt like a Russian Mafioso, which helped. After that point I thought, “if I were a big fat Russian dude with a gold necklace and hairy chest (I had one of those things) what would I do?” I instantly got comfy in my sweaty naked skin. 

10 minutes later I hear a lady walking through calling my number.

“NUMBA 132!”

Fate is calling “132?”

“Yes. You numba 132?”

She waves her hand at me so I follow her. I sheepishly throw my towel on first. She smiles kindly. I didn’t think of it until now but she sees boobies all day.

She’s 4'11" at most, wide but strong and walking with a strut in her granny undies. So it hits me, I am in the presence of a professional. She shows me into a back corner of the bathhouse, which literally feels like a butchers backroom. Each handler has their own table, towels, access to warm water and magic skin stuff. As she walks past her co-handlers taking a quick snack break in between bodies, she  quickly grabs a piece of what they're eating, which smells like salty fish. She smiles at me and with delight and says:

“Okaay. Take off towel. Okay now lay down” She indicates face down and my fate has arrived.

She covers my face so I relax… or so I can give into the fantasy that her little hands belong to Captain America. I was so wrong. The scrubbing is thorough. She starts at my feet and works every inch and crany until she gets to my neck, then back down. Then she tells me to flip over and does the same. Then on my side, again, starts at the feet and works her way to my neck then back down to my feet. Other side. Before she has me change sides she douses my whole body in warm delicious water. I didn’t actually taste it but my body disowned the fact that it had a brain to take orders from and completely gave into this little Korean lady’s magic powers. When I would open my eyes to change positions though I would see residual evidence on the plastic table. What looks like little light brown ½ inch turds? Curious… hmmm… oh my god… dead skin.*gag*

I’m immediately grateful I’m not watching and thank Allah and all of Buddha’s children that she is so good. I think to myself “Make it hurt.”. I think she heard me.

I’m scrubbed 10 ways from Sunday then told to shower thoroughly but not my face or hair. As I’m showering and wiping away any evidence of my old self, I feel like I’m touching baby skin. I come back dripping wet with a glazed over look in my eyes. She’s so happy for me “okay now dry!”. Now for round 2.

I’m acupressured, moisturized, massaged, moisturized and then given the most intense facial. There is what feels like no end to this woman’s talents. Then back to more massages and moisturizing. My hair is oiled and scrubbed out like the demon lives in there. When she’s done with my face and hair, she gives me a very efficient towel head. She has a smile on her face when I open my eyes and gives a belly laugh.

“Okay! Aw done!” while motioning me to get up. I have a stupid grin on my face with sleepy eyes as she helps me put my robe on. Of course, the final gesture of her awesomeness, she bundles me up like a newborn that just had their first bath. Tight cozy and ready for a nap. I muster a “Thank you so much” even though I thought I forgot how to talk. She nods happily and waves good-bye.

I strut sleepily through the bathhouse. Where before I was sheepish about the Jacuzzis, I now wanted to throw the peace sign at the senior Eastern European red head with a scowl. I find myself walking aimlessly past the lockers and realize they perfectly set up the quiet room where my subconscious would lead. This quiet room has low lighting and heated marble floors. I grab a blanket, lay it down and plop on the ground to close my eyes and smile. After a woman works your body for an hour bringing your skin back to life, you’re actually tired. Hell she should be tired but instead, like a restless mother she’s ready for the next babe.