Naked, afraid and stumbling

Hey kids, here’s another spa story.

Last year, I made the mistake of forgetting my contact lenses for a spa trip. Because of this error, and because of my Mr. Magoo-level nearsightedness I was left with two rather bleak choices:

  1. Wear my  glasses in the spa. Get sweaty.  Glasses slide off my sweaty face, into hot tub. Swim around hot-tub looking for glasses. Grab a titty by mistake. Get thrown out of spa.
  2. Go without glasses, and spend afternoon sitting  naked in broom closet thinking it is dry sauna. Complain to coat rack about the dry sauna not being hot enough. Urinate in washing bowl, thinking it’s toilet.


Fortunately, my friend and (spa partner) offered an alternative solution:

“I have a little satchel thingy,” She said.  “Why don’t you just carry it around with you. You can put your glasses in it when you’re using the hot tub/sauna, and wear your glasses when you’re walking around so you don’t bump into people.”

And  that, my pals, is just what I did.The satchel strategy  worked quite well, until I got into the dry sauna. I put my towel out on the bench, placed the satchel above my head and stretched out to enjoy a good 5 minutes of sweating it out.




Ohshitohshit. My glasses. Fallen down!  Deep into the cracks of somewhere! 

“Okay. Listen. Whatever you do. Don’t panic” I told myself. Of course, my body never listens to any of  that horseshit. STAMPEDE! said my body. STAMPEDE! With a jolt I sat up, and kicked some woman in the head who was lying below me.


“Sorry!” I whispered.

It was useless to try and look for the glasses myself. Because the light was dim, you see, and because everything around me looked like a mash of golden brown wood  with blobs of pink and tan (indicating people).

I needed help. Julie. Need to find Julie friend.  

I carefully lowered myself down from my perch, and stumbled out into the main spa room. I walked slowly, deliberately, with huge eyes, like a wide-awake sleepwalker, searching for a blurry pink smear that looked like my friend Julie. I couldn’t just say “HEY JULIE!” because there’s a no talking rule at the spa. (They will sound a gong if people are talking).  All I could do was slowly lumber about, turning my head this way and that.

Finally,  I found her.

“Hey, Julie” I whispered. “I dropped my glasses in the dry sauna, and I can’t find them! Can you help me?”

“I’m not Julie,” whispered the female voice. “Sorry!”

I continued my naked shamble around the periphery, swaying my head this way and that. Then, I spotted a pink smear with a black circle in the middle. Julie’s tattoo!! Julie!!

“Hey, Julie,” I whispered. “I dropped my glasses in the dry sauna. Can you help me?”

“Oh dear. Sure mama,” she whispered. (THANK GOD I GOT THE RIGHT PERSON)

We  both went into the dry sauna, to search, and found the glasses. They had fallen down to the bottom row of benches.

And this is why, whenever I go to the spa with Julie now, she reminds me 1,000 times to bring my contact lenses. 


About ArleneShirlee

Hello. I live in Oakland. I write, I rap, I play drums, and I do some neat party tricks.
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