Please don't let me die alone at Spa 88!

In a city where you can be killed or drop dead at any moment, I always try to rate my worst-case death scenario. Yesterday, I was confronted with the terrifying possibility of being left for dead at Spa 88 aka the Wall Street Bath and Day Spa on Fulton Street. If I am ever with you at Spa88 and I pass out in the sauna or have a heart attack in the cold pool or slip in the steam room, please don't abandon me leaving me to be stuffed into the Siberian Pelemeny in the restaurant or have my breasts cut off to be used as jacuzzi flotation devices!