Each year around this time I start spending a lot of time in the sun. I do a lot of work in my yard and so I usually wind up with funky tan lines but in normal clothes it usually works out. This year, I am in my sister's wedding in May which requires me to wear a very strappy dress. My sister told me that if I planned on being tan for the wedding I was going to need to fake bake cause she didn't want those funky tan lines I usually wind up with.
Now keep in mind, I function just fine on an every day basis in my comfortable surroundings. I'm in charge of my own accounts at work and I have even recently been put in charge of actual people. But damn, you take me out of my natural environment and I become socially challenged.
I walk into this tanning salon on the edge of Lawrence and this super young, super cute, very tan highschooler is working behind the counter. Of course, I am super intimidated. So I walk up to the counter like I know what I'm doing and tell her I need to tan. Apparently it's not that easy. First she needs a TON of information from me. After filling out the appropriate paperwork I am surprised I didn't have to promise my first child before they'll agree to let me tan. After that, I have to decide how I want to tan. Really? I just need some flourescent lights to singe my skin. She rambles through about 5 different beds and 5 different package deals and I don't understand anything she says. I go with the most tans for the cheapest...again I'm just looking to burn some skin. Just when I think I might get to tan, the very young girl asks me if I want to purchase a sample of tanning lotion. Sure...what the heck. While I'm spending the money, I might as well optimize my tan right?
After paying, I finally get led back to a room to tan. I'm cool at this point...or at least I think. She shows me how to use the bed but then proceeds to tell me I have 5 minutes to get ready before the bed turns itself on. So you're telling me that I have 5 minutes to disrobe, get this tanning lotion rubbed over my ENTIRE body and get in the bed? Sweet. So I strip down and then proceed to open this packet of lotion. As I go to squeeze some lotion into my hand, it is apparent I needed to somehow mix this stuff up because this watery substance spooges out and then onto the floor. I left such a mess that I'm sure they are gonna wonder what exactly I did in there. I'm also pretty sure I only had enough lotion for about half my body.
At this point I have about 1 minute left before my bed turns on so I'm in a panic to get in the bed. As I climb into the bed I smash my knee into the side and have no idea how I didn't spew forth every curse word that I know. As I lay in the bed for 10 minutes singing my skin and most assuredly giving my skin cancer, I'm wondering why exactly I found the need to do this in the first place.
I'm pretty sure as I wandered past the front desk and out to my car the girl behind the counter was laughing.