But the logic does nothing to erase the sheer panic I’m experiencing as I stand in a dressing room with just a robe covering me. “Do I have to get naked?” I asked the woman who handed me the robe. She only laughed, like she thought I was joking. I wasn’t. This day has felt like a fun house, where every room is worse than the last. Maybe if it hadn’t started with me stripping down to nothing and getting hosed off in a room with a drain in the floor. This is what they do to prisoners. I half expected them to dump some kind of lice treatment on my hair or give me a flea dip.
