because it’s hard for me to relax when i’m worried about getting arrested or catching VD….or, the most recent time my linesister was right.

The truth of the matter is, I’ve spent much of my life in a state of closemindedness.

I was entirely unaware of it, however, so I’m inclined to think that all sins performed while still-swathed in its swaddling bindings are absolved.

And though I hate to admit it, the herald of my freedom, my savior from my own ignorant self, has been my linesister.

It has been my linesister—my Number 10, to be precise—who has encouraged me to push boundaries I never knew I had; to travel the world, to begin a blog, and last weekend—to get naked in a room full of bitches.

I’ll walk it back.

A little over a year ago, Linesister began frequenting this spa in Nowheresville, Virginia. From the start, she raved about the potential for cathartic release, for ease of mind, and unparalleled relaxation.

She began taking our friends to said spa, and, as it was open 24 hours a day, would find often find herself there at the witching hour, attempting to detox from her latest night of hard living.

For a year I’ve resisted her invitation.

You see, while no one would ever accuse me of modesty, I have a strict can’t-get-naked-in-a-room-full-of-bitches policy.

Granted, there was that exception for one lone, teensy tiny, girl on girl on girl on girl shower orgy. But that was a dream.


I relented, last weekend.

And, once again, Linesister was right. When I walked out of that sonofabitch eleven hours later, I was opium den relaxed.

But getting to my state of zen was a hard-fought mental battle.

This is the part when I share my fears/obstacles…..

  1. Hookers

That’s right. Hookers.

Look. I spend a significant amount of my legal career in the practice of criminal law. And over the years, I have found that there is no greater friend to a hooker than a mild-mannered john with a sound heating system.

But second to him is the spa.  

Hoes love the spa. The discretion offered by four walls; a cubby to tuck away their ho-gear; non-asphalt surfaces on which to stretch their otherwise-cramped-up-in-ho-shoes-ho-toes; and clearly defined exits with which they can become easily familiar makes for a veritable ho-oasis. A hoasis.

Hoes love the spa. It’s empirical fact.

Quite naturally, as an officer of the court—an arguably shady one, but an officer of the court, nonetheless—I shy away from places where lawbreakers can be found in strong numbers. Like, a crackhouse, or….the darkened basement at a houseparty, or…..a “spa” that could potentially be chock full of hoes.

Linesister assured me that her spa of choice was a ho-free zone, but when we she parked her car in the lot of a strip mall, and began to walk in the direction of a rather large building that appeared to be a former grocery store with the words “Spa World” illuminated in bright, glowing, blue letters, I remained unconvinced.

I spent the first 45 minutes waiting for Fairfax Vice to barge in and arrest us all.

But they didn’t. And I’m happy to report that I did not bear witness to one act of fellatio throughout the entirety of my stay.

Then again, I slept most of the time.

  1. Linesister, naked.

Yeah, yeah. Of course, there was a time in our lives when Linesister and I spent a great deal of time together in very close quarters. And yes, during that time, Linesister and I had occasion to see each other in in various states of undress. But, no. I never saw Linesister’s nether regions. Like, not.neva.

And I’m a grown up. I can appreciate the fact that friends should be comfortable with seeing their friends naked. And, but for 2 notable exceptions, I’m closer to Linesister than I am to anyone in the entire world.

But I didn’t want to see her mons, k? I didn’t want to see her mons. While we’re on the topic, I didn’t wanna see her pert, baby nips, either. But I most especially didn’t wanna see her mons.

Down to the wire, I was grappling with this struggle.

Here’s a snippet of the phone conversation we had prior to her picking me up:

Me: “Uh. Can I bring a towel for me?”

L/S: *exasperated sigh* “Look, if you insist, you can bring a towel, okay? But you’re gonna look like the biggest loser ever if you’re the only one there with a towel.”

Me: “The covered up loser. I’m okay with that in a room full of nude bitches. Um….”

L/S: *another exasperated sigh* “What is it?”

Me: “Can I bring a towel for you?”

When we entered the locker room, the first thing I saw was a naked sixty-something year old Korean woman with a pot belly, pale tiny legs, and an exceptionally large triangle of a vagina.

After that, Linesister could have done a handstand, spread eagle, with my nose eye-level with her bare, Nigerian ass.

I was cured.

Besides that, I never actually saw Linesister’s hotbox of love.

Pretty sure she got an iris-full of mine, though.

  1. My less than perfect body; my smattering of tats; and the child who couldn’t get enough of either

So, you know how there are women who just have these amazing bodies from the break? Who never watch what they eat or work out?

Right. I’m not one of those. And, in times of happiness and contentment, I’m not careful about my body at all. And I just quit my job and now work for myself.

Right. Happy as a motherfucking lark.

Consequently, I’m a little thicker around the middle than I would like. And naturally, this makes me even more reluctant to bare it all before a crowd of strangers.

The other thing is…I have these tattoos, see? Like, not ridiculous ones, and not many…but I have them. And the whole point was to get them in places where no one would ever see them. No one but the people who would…you know…see me naked. And then they’d think, “Wow, she’s got this super conservative job, but underneath her suit she’s all badass and freaky and nasty, and all Suicide Girl-y, and man, oh man I wanna slide all up in them half dignified/half dirty guts…”

You take my point.

So, right. I wasn’t over-enthused at the prospect of a gang of middle aged women who didn’t know that I have a perfectly respectable job peeping out my inked up thickyness.

But, when I walked into the locker room, no one was paying me any heed. I loosened up, a bit. I began to undress.

Then I saw her in my periphery.

This little 9 year old Korean girl was taking me all in.

And like, unabashedly doing so.

Her eyes were fully focused on all of my lady parts, sizing me up from head to toe.

Even when I pointedly met her gaze, giving her my full scale, Black girl, “The fuck you lookin’ at?” stare—she simply stared back.

And I began to get really uncomfortable. 

But we aren’t talking normal level of getting-stared-at-whilst-you’re-naked discomfort.

I’m talking, this-pervy-little-bitch-is-young-like-a-motherfucker-can-i-get-arrested-for-this-shit-what-in-the-fuck-is-she-looking-at-where-in-the-fuck-is-her-mama-hottdamn-is-this-whore-still-looking-at-me-it’s-not-a-show-you-little-shit discomfort.

I told myself that she wasn’t really there. That she was my mind’s little Korean embodiment of my super-critical, overly analytical inner child; the one who tried to act as a roadblock to my peace, even in this most relaxing of environments.

When that shit didn’t work, I crouched, cupped at my crotch, and Cupid Shuffled past that little ass until I was out of her line of vision.

  1. Wait—can I get VD from this shit?

I’ll grant that this is, perhaps, a silly question. But, the world’s a silly place. And really, wouldn’t it be the height of all things ironic if, i—having showcased my privates all about the Eastern Board, and a couple of spots out west—developed a permanent case of the itchy-scratchies the one time I was stark, bald naked, and didn’t put my mouth, hands, or ass on anything?

And I live wrong, too. Like, I’m literally looking for my karmic retribution at every pass, behind every zipper.

So I don’t think it’s beyond the pale if I happen to wonder whether my gyno is gonna give my genital ju ju bee the sadface/two-thumbs-down at my next appointment after I roast my vag in a cauldron of piping hot water where two other potentially whorey-er stranger/dangerbox broads are sitting.

I’m  just saying. It’s something to consider.

But, once you got past all of that—

Shit was cool.


8 Responses to “because it’s hard for me to relax when i’m worried about getting arrested or catching VD….or, the most recent time my linesister was right.”

  1. 1 Beach Babe
    November 11, 2010 at 12:57 pm

    Dead. Totally dead.

  2. November 11, 2010 at 2:29 pm

    i so did not know you got eye molested by that child. sorry ’bout that. other than that, i guess i’d say…you’re welcome, linesister. By the time we’re in our fifties, i hope to have forced you into every uncomfortable situation i can think of. this is my promise to you. again, you’re most welcome. xoxo!

  3. 3 Moonpie
    November 11, 2010 at 3:34 pm

    So I am completely jealous that I don’t have a “Spa World” or friends to take me to said “Spa World”…However, I think I would have been a little reluctent to take my clothes off too…Love you both!

  4. November 11, 2010 at 4:40 pm

    Also kinda jealous. Not of the early-onset perviness of the 9 year old, but of the whole “linesister forcing me to go to Spa World” thing. Hilarious. 😆

  5. 5 Elle
    November 12, 2010 at 3:35 pm

    My friends and I experienced Spa World Halloween 2009 weekend for a birthday excursion. None of us were prepared for what we encountered either. It was totally a “shock & awe” type situation but we did enjoy it…with the same reaction, I must admit. I feel that there should be an age restriction on places like this though….But I loved your account of it all….I was as free as a bird & was happy to leave my towel neatly folded in place in my locker, but a few of my homegirls were trying to be more discreet…..LOL

  6. November 13, 2010 at 11:06 pm

    Haha I loved Spa World. I had girlfriends driving 4 hours up from NC to come with me to Spa World. I’m [half] Korean (that might explain why I love a place like Spa World) and I can only get started on that pervy 9-year-old Korean girl, but I’ll spare you that. Never heard of anyone catching VD at a bathhouse, not at Spa World or the other spas like it in Korea and LA, but it might throw your p.H. levels off balance and you can say hello to a yeast infection. Enjoy with caution 🙂

  7. December 2, 2010 at 6:44 am

    My girls and I go to Spa World all the time! Im somewhat of a nudist, so I have no problem walking around in the buff. And kids, well, theyre going to be kids. And sometimes that means theyre going to stare at you. Personally, I think its the different ethnic background that gets them.

    I like to go regularly to get the full body scrub. Id recommend it to you, but given your squeamishness, I dont think you could handle all your private areas rubbed roughly for 30 minutes by a beefy-handed Korean matron. But your skin feels sooooo good afterwards!


  8. 8 sourpatchkid
    January 11, 2011 at 9:42 pm

    YO. i’m fuckin dying. lmao. the thoughts going through your head when lil mama was staring at (or eye-fucking?) you were hilarious, and you “cupid shuffling” past her brought out a loud guffaw. glad to know the shit was still cool, tho. lol.

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a history of my meanderings….


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