Tanning and Sucking

I wasn't going to post again pre-BlogHer08 but I had a luxurious morning of child free time with which to get myself into trouble. So I'm telling you all about it;


I was driving down Ogden Avenue when my fleshy, white, Midwestern arms took charge of the wheel and forced me to drive into the parking lot of a tanning salon. When I got inside I asked if I could buy one, 20 minute session. The girl behind the counter launched into a big old, "Level I, Level II, etc." pitch. Whenever I tried to ask her "Which one do you think would be best?", she would reply with "Whichever one, YOU would like." So I told her I would like the two metal slugs that I drop inside the black box by the tanning bed to turn it on. To which she said, "Oh, I'm sorry mam, we don't sell 1991 here." So I told her I would take a level II and a packet of tanning lotion if she promised to lie to me about how it would "open my pores for a better tan" again.

The girl then encourage me to make use of the tanning salon's "hydration station" and pointed to a water fountain. When I asked if they had "free refills" she just looked at me blankly. (I've been getting that look a lot lately when I try to joke with high school aged kids. Which is a clear sign of my old-assness. The other day I tried to tell the lifeguard at our pool that the Black Eyed Peas song playing on the radio was using a remix of Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam's I Wonder If I Take You Home. Again, more blank stares.)

So I got on with it and smeared myself with coconut lotion in hopes that it might make me smell less like baked human afterwards. Then, heaven. I forgot how nice it is to close your eyes and lie down on a warm glass tanning bed. The white noise of the fan lulling you to sleep. So bad for you, but so good. Like sneaking a cigarette.

Update: Will NEVER again do this to my pasty body. My stomach, which had not seen the light of day in over a decade, now has a heart shape permanently seared into it.


I stopped at Carson's to check out their shapeware because I chucked my g'damn Spanx in the garbage. I refuse to be hindered from having a good time because of sweaty inner thighs and an alarmingly open-air crotch.

The saleswoman handed me a bunch of spandex tank tops that would smooth my back rolls into one larger, less lumpy roll and allow me to still wear my beloved cotton skivvies. God bless her for handing me a bunch of XL tanks. I wanted to tell her to get me some 1x's instead. However, that would have required BREATHING and I had a light pink, Maidenform python slowly squeezing the life out of me. So I'm going out the old fashioned way - I'm sucking it in. Feel free to give me a little poke if I've had too many drinks and start exhaling.

That's it!


Katrina said...

waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa....caaaaaan't geeeeet innnnnn

Kathi D said...

I quoted Eminem to a punk kid this morning and got a blank stare. I am getting so damn old.

Oh, The Joys said...

I know all the words to that Lisa Lisa song and can't wait to see you. (I'm already out here.)

As for your spanx, hang it all out sister. I think your drop dead gorgeous.

Lotta said...

OTJ - Totally drunken commenting here since husband and I just got back from the bar. My rational being that beer would make me sleeepy enough to go to bed at a decent hour and wake up at the ass crack of dawn for my flight. Apparently it just makes me give up commas and periods.

See you soon hot mama!

Adriane said...

Light pink, Maidenform python made me snarf into my coffee this morning, Lotta.

Have an awesome time at BlogHer!

Amy Kate said...

At Jimmy John's, just before closing, I went in for a sandwich and the "manager" (age 18, tops) had friends in waiting for them to close so they could go out.
He apologized for them being rowdy, and I said, "Oh, puhlease, I used to hang at the Subway with my friends in high school."
Then I heard crickets chirping, until I got in the car and imagined I heard the roaring laughter of 7 teenagers. Sigh.
I'm better off hanging with the octogenarians in my town where I'm the young, fun one.

fribbles said...

It has long been suspected that cutaneous endorphins are produced during exposure to UV light. Now research published in the April 2006 issue of the Journal of the American Academy of Dermatology suggests that frequent users of tanning beds may become addicted to these endorphins. Moreover, blocking the effects of the endorphins could lead to withdrawal symptoms.

Hooray for tanning highs! Have fun at BlogHer08!!!

elliebelle said...

You totally crack me up. I love reading your entries. I still laugh to myself when I think about what you wrote about the deer you saw on your evening walk! hahaha...
Have fun at your blogger thing!

Grim Reality Girl said...

Ah the sweet memories of tanning.... and giving "grown ups" blank stares (even when you got it).... those were the days. Now I'm smearing on Jergans tanning lotion and pondering if I could even take my own measurements to know what SIZE spanx to buy! Youth is wasted on the youth....