After seeing body sushi in Japan, Arabia began adapting the concept three years ago. Lelani, 26, lies face up on a table for as long as three hours. Arabia is close by to replenish the supply. Flower pieces cover the essentials, and ti leaves on her thighs and sternum act as a sushi-skin barrier. “I try to pay attention to what’s going on,” says Lelani. “People have too much fun; you could get poked with a chopstick.” It’s not a normal, on-the-job hazard, but Lelani’s used to tough days at the office. If she gets an itch, she can’t scratch it–and trust us, there are other, uh, inconveniences. Not to mention the staring. “You have no idea the shock value,” says Eric Rosen, who recently attended an intimate body-sushi gathering with his wife. “There’s no etiquette. Do we walk around the table and look at it like at a museum? Lelani was not just a tray. She became a guest.” At the end of the evening, Lelani rises, puts on a robe and people clap–especially women, which is why Arabia plans to add a male model. (Sorry, ladies: Arabia screens clients looking for a sushi strip club.) “It’s a sensual culinary experience,” he says. But were it not for Lelani’s job, it’s not one she’d likely attend: she doesn’t dig on raw fish.
