Go fish

“Fins to the left. Fins to the right. And you’re the only bait in town.”

I never fully understood those classic Jimmy Buffet lyrics until my friend Angie and I braved a fish spa in Cambodia.

No, fish spa is not where Nemo gets a rubdown.

Rather, fish spa is the perfect union of man and marine. You dunk your sore, tired feet into a tank of water, where tiny fish eat the flesh off your very bones. No biggie.

Also, fish spa in Southeast Asia is a righteous deal. We paid $2 for 25 minutes, which includes a free Angkor beer. And I don’t know about you, but I’ll do whatever it takes to get a skin slough and cold beer for just two buckaroos.

So Angie and I dove in.

As soon as I dipped my toes in the water, the beasties swarmed my appendages like a truckload of hungry farmers at a Bonanza buffet. They were Napoleon, and my feet were kingdoms to be conquered.

It was actually kind of cute and novel until I realized hundreds of insane garra rufa fish were devouring my old, dead skin. And then it was totally creepy. And then it was prickly and tickly. And then it was rather excruciating.

I screamed and thrashed around for a few minutes, because it’s scary to have mini piranhas gnawing at your feet. I don’t even like swimming in lakes for this very reason, and now I was begging the tiny monsters to eat me.

The “spa technicians” promised I would get used to the feel of fish mouths after a few minutes, and they were correct. But long after the tickling faded, some questions remained.

Is fish spa vegan?

Is it ok to feed fish if the food happens to be your flesh?

Where’s my free beer?

Overall, my feet ended up smoother than when I use a pumice stone or get a professional pedicure. They felt better. They even looked better. I’m not sure if fish spa legitimately increases circulation and contributes to better health as the spa claimed, but it definitely gave new meaning to the term “go fish.”

Oh, and I did finally get the free beer.