get naked. (part i)

Exposing your penis to lots of men.

Is how it should be described. Instead, it’s euphemistically described as a Korean spa.

After the long week, we’ll go at night. Sit, chill, relax

My friend says. The week is over. Tonight is that night.

We’re shuffled into a locker room. I place my shoes into a cubby. We then enter a second locker room with there’s wall-to-wall oak paneled doors. Rows of identical lockers. The Minotaur’s layer.

Flashes of flesh run beside and across and away from me. I dart my eyes to avoid their skin and focus on the first task: get naked.

The shirt. The pants. The socks. The boxer briefs. And the watch. Everything. Must. Go. I peek around the corner–my friends are all in the spa.

I walk through the coverage of lockers and approach the thoroughfare of glistening naked bodies. Some are pitter-pattering their wet feet standing in line. I recall last-minute advice from another Korean-spa veteran:

Eyes up.

They’re up. Way up. I admire the vaulted ceiling.

“You finally made it. Go take a shower”

My friend directs me to the standing showers as I notice his stark tank-top tan-line–an intimate detail I’m uneasy to know. Crossing the showers, all I can see is ass. A line-up of white or tan, hairy or polished, small or flopping ass.

Eyes up.

It’s like showering at home, except I turn around and see another man slipping his hand between his butt cheeks. I give my testicles a soapy rub.

“Dry yourself. We’re going in.”

I’m thrown a towel the size of a handkerchief. When done, I toss it on the ground. My mentality has to change. Loathe the cloth. Threads are for the weak. If I keep echoing the mantra then maybe I’ll survive.

“Hop in”

The first pool is plain. No bubbles. No steam. I go in carelessly– my lower- half already submerged. My senses are in a state of frenzy. Legs burning. On fire. The hay-wired circuits reorganize. No, not fire. Not even warm.

Ice.