I'm leaving for San Diego and a cruise and Mexico and beaches tomorrow. Couldn't be better timing for me since I'm looking out on a couple of inches of new snow.
Of course I had to get ready: buy a few new clothes, get a pedicure, find somebody to play with Captain Casey while I'm gone; and I had to get tan. And fast. So spray tan it was.
Turns out, that spray tanning place works just like a car wash, only for people. The shiny new fangeled machine looks pretty state-of-the-art. You stand in a circular closet and a lady starts talking to you.
"Face the jets for your pre-tan application," she says in a low, sexy voice. So I do. And these slow moving jets spray the coldest mist of smelly spray right in my general direction. Luckily I quickly remembered to squeeze my eyes shut, but I guess my mouth was agape with surprise. I think maybe my tongue is tan now too.
"Face the back for your spraying," she croons. So I quickly turn around only to be blasted from my head to toes with another startlingly cold mist of something not quite right.
Then comes the car wash interval.
"Keep facing the back for your drying," she says. And the stream of cool air blows right up...everywhere.
The lady tells you to get in some pretty silly positions with arms and legs splayed just like you are shown in the helpful picture menu. I can't quite tell which arm I'm supposed to have up and which leg I'm supposed to have forward and I'm starting to think I'm somehow facing the wrong way. I'm afraid to look at the pictures too long, because I know in a second I'll get blasted with tanning mist right in my contact lens.
The best part is the last "anti-aging" application step. You get sprayed with something icy cold and then blown off twice on each side.
I'm looking somewhat tan now--quite obviously fake. Just a nice brown cliche. But what are vacations if not cliche? Especially a cruise to Mexico.
Your Crew and You, Part 2
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