I approached the Phuket Fish Spa with determination, prepared to stick my feet into an aquarium containing throngs of tiny scavenger fish commissioned to nibble and suck away my dead, dry skin.
In preparation for my visit, I had consumed two large Changs.
I should have had eight.
The Fish Spa attendant greeted me and I shrewdly negotiated a price of $400 Baht for 10 minutes.
She took my money and motioned for me to take a seat at the edge of the aquarium.
I dangled my feet above the murky water. The fish looked up at me, their tiny, greedy mouths watering.
I tentatively moved my feet closer to the water. One millimeter at a time.
Dave was like, "Stick'm in! You're wasting money!"
I inched my feet downward.
Closer still.
I was about 7 minutes into my 10-minute Fish Spa treatment, and still about 2" from the water, when the Fish Spa Attendant reached over and SHOVED MY LEGS INTO THE WATER!
I screamed.
And my feet responded like a jack-in-the-box, catapulting several fish into the seedy looking bar across the street.
Meanwhile, daughter Linda and brother-in-law Mark were thoroughly enjoying their fish exfoliations in the adjacent aquariums.
And they began to apply peer pressure.
Calling me a wimp. And other unfair, unnecessary names.
I tried. Oh, how I tried. I really did. But every time my heels touched that water, and I locked eyes with those flesh eating monsters, I screamed.
A crowd began to form.
I had an audience.
And I realized that I had to give the performance of my life.
From out of nowhere came an unexpected surge of Adrenalin. I took a deep breath and lowered my feet into the terrifying tank.
And I successfully achieved my goal.
Just kidding.
I'll get a Fish Spa next time I'm in Thailand.
But I'll need a LOT more alcohol.
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