Korean Scrub a Dub Dub

As a native of Florida I know a thing or two about saunas. In fact, I used to get under a velour blanket in the back seat of our huge Mercury Marque, in the dead of summer just to have the cooling experience when I came out coming out. Maybe I was just trying to detox from all of those hand fulls of whipped cream I sneaked while everyone else was doing yard work. Or maybe it was some kind of masochistic experiment akin to the practice of trying to see how long you can go without scratching an itch.
I didn't know a real sauna though until I went to a Russian bath house in N.Y.C. The idea that you are cleaning from the inside out was incredible not to mention the absolute relaxation possible when you surrender to the heat.
Since moving to L.A. I've wanted to try the Korean saunas but hadn't been able to justify it yet. So, when my little sister came for a visit I decided to schedule the full treatment for us.
We arrived about an hour early to soak and soften as the people at the spa had suggested. It was a dark peaceful place with several rooms and pools to "process" your body in. We melted into the red colored hot tea pool. Then tiptoed into the freezing green tea pool our eyes bulging and personal bits standing at attention. There was even a "jade room" to relax in on grass rugs. This room actually has huge nets full of jade hanging in each corner.
Before we had time to do another round our numbers were called and we proceeded to the massage center. This is when I realized we were not getting private massages. Like a scene from the movie "Coma", there were supine bodies from wall to wall with bikini clad women scrubbing and rubbing every part of them.
My sister and I looked at each other and almost reluctantly went to our respective tables. The massause was very instructive in her broken English. One word commands can be confusing though. For example, I almost didn't fit on the table so she kept telling me "up" which I figured out meant move up on the table not sit up. She also knew how to say "ober", which I realized meant turn over not that the massage is over.
The service began with a scrub. My god was it a scrub. I felt like an old piece of furniture being sandpapered by a professional. When she came to certain imperfections on my skin it was as if she became Lady McBeth trying to get rid of the blood she hath spilled.
Then came the private spots. As she swooped in with the loofah, I thought to myself no she is not scrubbing there! But I let it all happen. Just surrender, right?
There were spots however that were just too ticklish. I let out a giggle as she loofahed my stomach. Then I heard my sister giggling from across the room. I started to laugh even more. My therapist reprimanded me with a curt "SSShhht". I laughed again. "Ssshht" and then "First time?", she asked, trying to show sympathy I suppose.
Once the massage was over and we were worked over, I went home and compared notes, and got the best nights sleep I've gotten in a long time.