I spent an inordinate amount of time naked in front of strangers this weekend.
I was already emotionally raw from visiting Lindsey at the hospital, so it was a good day for a physical scrub-down, and Sam and I walked to the Korean spa in her LA neighborhood to do just that.
Truth be told, I was not prepared for the level of intimacy required to get a Korean scrub.
She got all up in my lady business to get the layers of dead skin off me, flipping me over and shredding and beating every inch of me. At one point, she was kneeling on my hamstrings while pulling my arms out of their sockets, lifting my torso off the plastic-coated mat. The next moment would find her vigorously scrubbing my breasts.
The skin, it is smooth. The muscles, they are sore. The ego, it was washed down the drain, along with any lingering shreds of dignity.