A Little Family, Brooklyn 2006

There are so many exciting things in New York of which one must take advantage. This is one of those timeless truisms that sometimes begs a slap in the face, or in the case such a statement might come out of an elderly relative's puckered hole, at least a roll of the eyes. In actuality, most of these activities are just a plain hassle.
There are, however, a few things that cannot be missed on threat of shame. One of these little beauties are the few Russian/Turkish bath houses strewn about the boroughs. If you live here and you don't take advantage of this treat of ethnic cleansing, you are a fool and a sad sack.
Go, find yourself a steam room. Find yourself the Russianest steam room you can. I don't care if you don't like funky smells or porcinesque sweating or even heat.
Unless of course you really don't like those things. In that case, only go once. To satisfy me. And take me with you. And pay for me. But don't complain.
Then buy me a beer.