The Campaign For DA

11.25.2013

King's Spa



Mrs. LL and I live by Russians. Real Russians. Their accent is fantastic. And they are fantastic neighbors.

I'm not sure that matters but it makes this story a little better. The Russian mom texted Mrs. LL yesterday morning to invite the Fifth Grader in the House to go to King's Spa. Stay with me here.  For some reason, everyone in the house was downstairs before 8:00 a.m. so the morning was already surreal. It got more surreal when Mrs. LL simply handed me her phone with the King's Spa message jumping off the screen. My jaw dropped.

The only thing I could say was, "We're going, too."

Background: A couple of years ago Mrs. LL and I got lost and actually ended up driving by King's Spa. It is massive. It is mysterious. We were convinced there was a ton of seediness going on in there. So when the Russians call to invite The Kid to the place, my head exploded. Either we've got crazy neighbors or the place was nothing like we feared. But we were going. It was an invitation to an adventure.

So we load up and headed to North Dallas (the place is somewhere off Luna and Royal).  I'm nervous and prepared to bolt the moment we walk in.

My head is still spinning as we walk through the front door. First, no wearing shoes inside. Secondly, you must change into "uniforms" which are pretty much pajamas.

So what is this place? It's huge (34,000 square feet!). It's bizarre. And the concept is very Korean and very un-American: The building  has basically ten different rooms with different themes: a hot room, a warm room, an ice room, an infrared room (still not sure what that was) and on and on. You walk into one and there are people laying on mats on the floor. Some people are sleeping. Some are meditating. Each one is beyond peaceful.

Kids? Yep, they are welcomed. They have their own kid's room. And the ones I saw were all incredibly well behaved. They actually embraced the relaxation.

Verdict: That place is fantastic. If you ever want to disappear for a few hours and relax, that place was Heaven. Absolute Zen. Clean. Safe. It was nothing like I expected it to be.

As we walked in, Mrs. LL said, "Opulence?"  I replied, "We has it."

(Dallas Observer review)