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  • Spa Day
  • Weike Wang (bio)

Spa Day 1

The magazines say that you deserve a spa day. These are bridal magazines my pre-husband's mother sends me. They are Martha Stewart–endorsed and weigh ten pounds each, which is the same amount of weight they suggest you lose. Big day, smaller woman, and don't forget to go to the spa. I could go to a spa, I think. I have been to one before. For a good friend's bachelorette party, we went to a Korean spa. I had booked it, but in spite of the bold print, the very clear indications on the website, and 180 Yelp reviews, I didn't know until we got there that it was the kind of spa where you could not wear any clothes inside. Nor could you speak. Inside, you showered and moved silently among different bodies of water set at different temperatures. One body of water was just a body of ice cubes. You sat in that for thirty seconds and then moved to the boiling-hot one and then to the moderately hot one and then back into the ice cubes. A sign said you could make noises of pain or discomfort, but you could not chat or talk. The rest of the bridesmaids were not happy with me. We had all just met and now we were naked, but we couldn't talk to defuse the situation. I tried not to look at anyone, but that was impossible. I would have run into a wall. Soon we discovered that the only place to talk was in the sauna room, so all seven of us crammed in there to get to know one another. We had to do it fast, otherwise we would faint from the heat. What do you do? Where are you from? How do you know the bride? This is fun. Isn't this fun? And then we couldn't talk anymore because of the heat and because another naked woman had come into the room and was giving us dirty looks. You know, she said, the sign specifically says no talking. We said we could read the sign. You know, she said. If you wanted to talk like that, like ah-ha-ha, wah-la, wah-la, wa, there's a Dave and Buster's down the street. We said we'd consider it. I added that this was really my fault, I didn't know the spa was a nude and silent one and we were a bridal party and, well, sorry, but could she please try to understand? You know, she said, the website specifically mentioned all of those things and you just told me that you could read signs, so something doesn't add up. It was a Korean spa and she was a very pale, non-Korean lady. After that incident, I decided not to mess around with spas. I did not want to sign up for a day and then find out that I would have to sit for hours in hot volcanic [End Page 1] ash or get wrapped up in delicious nori but not eat the nori. Though, honestly, I just did not want to meet that woman again. If it should happen that I got myself stuck in volcanic ash, I did not want to have to listen to someone say things like you know or wah-la, wah-la, wa.

Spa Day 2

But I could go to a spa, I think again. The first time I got a mani-pedi was also my last. It was years ago. I was sitting in one of those comfortable plush massage chairs enjoying myself until I noticed that the person doing my nails looked exactly like me and I was the only client who looked exactly like her. The person swiping my credit card also looked exactly like me, as did the girl taking out the trash, as did the girl looking out from a dark back room eating her lunch. I walked out of there before my pedicure had a chance to dry. But I could go to a spa. I don't remember the last...

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