dripping sweat

I was exposed to hairy men with beer bellies this weekend. My newest experience was taking a dip in the Russian baths on the lower east side. They've been around for over a century, and are a germaphobe's worst nightmare. (although I was assured of their cleanliness multiple times)

Faded pictures of celebrities and magazine reviews were absentmindedly plastered across the walls. A wrinkled woman sat behind a counter serving unpronounceable bottled beers and was curiously licking her fingers while she cooked soup. I wrapped a tattered navy tunic around (what I thought was) my very appropriate metallic gold bikini and joined the two boys who were seasoned veterans to this whole experience.

The first room was insufferable. I forced dramatic attempts to breathe and watched my skin glisten and moisten to the resemblance of a wet seal. The second room was dry and arid to the point where I felt my hair crisping like straw. I attacked our liter of water bottle and gulped with the ferocity of a Saharan nomad. Every minute. Replenish. Quickly. For every minute you didn't replace, your fluids were being sucked from your pores.

And then there was the water. Coming down over my head and bleeding through my tunic and making my breasts feel alive. I must have had an expression of complete horror, followed by immense relief, as bucket after bucket was poured over my thirsting hair and skin. The regular soakers sitting around me grinned and judged as they watched me learn.

When we emerged, a Russian man urged me to try the 45 degree pool of ice water. I succumbed to peer pressure and got in line to walk in, and felt the heat being sucked from my fingers and toes. He said it was good for the joints.

We replaced our drenched tunics with fresh ones and split a large bottled beer on the unkempt roof deck above. I instantly became sleepy as my newly detoxed body embraced the torturous temperature changes. Even the slight New York breeze sweeping through the cracks of the deck didn't seem to bother me.

If you get the chance to visit a Russian or Turkish bath, I would highly recommend it...especially on Sundays when Colin Farrell is there - sweating out his weekend antics.