I'm starting a new feature on my little blog, in the hopes that I can make a positive difference in the lives of all three of my readers. There are so many things I've done or have had happen that should not be repeated by anybody, ever. For the most part, I don't worry that these things could ever happen to anybody else.
(Has anybody else ever had her date steal her vibrator...? No? Still just me? Fantastic. If you're new to this blog and don't believe that happened...it actually happened. You can read all about it in one of my early posts - the one I'm too lazy to look up and link to.)
Because I am challenged in all ways, every once in a while, I do something stupid that could possibly serve as a lesson to others. Because I'm as insecure as a 13 year old girl at her very first boy-girl dance, these stupid things usually involve a misguided effort in self-improvement.
And by misguided, I mean tragic.
This first installment in my new series concerns self tanning. I experience these things, so you won't have to, and that's just the kind of altruistic person I am.
First off, DO decide to cover yourself in brown food colouring for the right reasons. Acceptable reasons for wanting to change your skin colour include the mistaken belief you might some day have sex again and want to paint over your cellulite like it's a home improvement project, and thinking your ankles will look slimmer if they didn't glow with the white light of a thousand suns.
DON'T be concerned if the teenage girl at the tanning salon has no idea what chemicals are in the "tanning solution" used in the self-tanning spray booth. Nobody has ever died from self-tanning, so it's unlikely you'll be the first that anybody knows about.
DO make generous use of the barrier cream made available in the spray room. This goes on the palms of your hands and the bottoms of your feet, to prevent the tanning spray from turning you into a total freak of nature.
DON'T think it will be perfectly safe to walk the three steps from the changing area to the spray tan booth with the bottoms of your feet layered in 18 layers of vaseline. Nobody wants to find your pasty, partially vaselined body covered atop by a shower cap all splayed out on the floor of a tanning salon. I didn't fall over, but it nearly happened. When your life flashes before your eyes and the last three seconds of it invoved putting on a shower cap to protect your hair from spray tan solution, you will regret those last three seconds, and wish you were doing something more meaningful.
DO make sure your feet are on the magnetic sensors shaped like feet inside the tanning booth before hitting the button that will release a bucket full of spray tan solution directly at your face and body. You wouldn't want to tan all askew.
DON'T panic when the icy cold tanning spray hits you in the face, causing you to flail and suck the tanning solution deep into both lungs when you were supposed to be holding your breath as instructed. Odds are probably good you won't asphixiate, and if you do, there have probably been dumber deaths recorded throughout history.
DO turn around when the automated machine's automated voice tells you to. This is what you came here for - the moment your jiggly and dimpled white bum get repainted. You don't want to miss the moment.
DON'T worry when it occurs to you that your inner thighs didn't get any spray from either direction, because it's too late. Much like running a line of spray paint down the front of a giant redwood in the forest, there's bound to be a little bit of circumfrence that gets missed. And by a little bit, I mean a fuck of a lot.
DO pretend you're Beyonce and do a little dance when pressing the "DRY" button repeatedly inside the spray tanning booth. This button releases gusts of air like a wind machine, and we all need a little more wind machine when dancing.
DON'T stop hitting the DRY button for the next hour, or you'll regret it later, for reasons that will soon become apparent.
DO marvel at the fact your nipples now blend in so much better with the rest of your breasts, and it's hardly weird looking at all.
DON'T get dressed and get in the car to drive home when you're still sticky. Even if the teenage girl at the front desk says it's OK, it's not OK. It's not OK! Don't do it!
DO get naked and check yourself out more fully at home.
DON'T panic when you see what happened to you and your new spray tan during the short drive home. Particularly, don't dispair when you notice that your entire tummy and torso is now striped, like this:
_________________________
BROWN
_________________________
WHITE
_________________________
BROWN
_________________________
WHITE
_________________________
BROWN
_________________________
This happened because you have rolls when you sit down. Unsightly, fluffy, rolls. In between those rolls, the sticky tanning solution rubbed off in the creases. Congratulations, you now look like a disturbed child's art project.
DO feel free to wipe frantically with your hands, thinking that will help spread out the self tanner. It won't help, but you might feel better by doing something proactive.
DON'T forget you no longer have barrier cream on the palms of your hands, and wiping frantically will lead to very bad things happening to the natural colour of your mittens.
DO take stock of all the areas you'll have to fill in with store bought self tanner before ever getting naked again, up to and including the parchment white swaths down either side of your body, the inside of your thighs, the underside of your butt, the creases in your tummy and the patchy parts on the top of your feet due to somebody's inablility to apply barrier cream to foot bottoms only.
DON'T worry that the salon spray tan and drugstore self-tanner shades don't match. It's not like you're going to have sex again any time soon, so it's not like anybody's going to spot the difference.
DO pat yourself on the back! For the next two weeks, you're a glowing, bronzed, sun-kissed goddess, and nobody can tell you otherwise.
Unless of course, you show them the palms of your hands.
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