It's that time of year when the sandals go on and the shorts come out. Along with the clothing, baring portions of your body become of great importance. Ok, not so much the extra pockets of bubbles beneath the skin (which should have been taken cared of in the gym), but I'm talking about the chalky whiteness of hidden skin beneath the many layers of winter clothing. The mad rush to the tanning beds begin. Yes, even here in the deep south those are used.
Lines upon lines, the masses wait for their 8 to 12 minute experience in a bed illuminated by light bulbs and a whirlwind of fan blowers.
OK…I admit I am an avid fan of color but will by all means try to get in and out of such establishments as soon as possible. Last night was such an example. I decided after a long absence from the luminance lights, I was going to add to my bronzing endeavors by participating in the flood of avid tanners. When I entered the building, every square inch of the waiting room was filled with patrons anticipating their moments of coloring. I knew I was in for a long wait, but found to my surprise a few of my acquaintances to while away the time.
But what to my wonderful ears did I hear? The attendant asked if anyone wanted to use the stand up machine. When no takers rushed the counter, I calmly said, "sure, why not". My line cutting was a fortunate event for me because it cut my wait time over 30 minutes. There is something to say about flexibility.
After my vortex of tanning, I left the building with each of my friends still waiting for their moment of 'sun'. As I look at my skin, the gentle browning has begun…only to return to the scene and hope once again, no one wants to stand in that mighty vortex. Wish me luck!
'til next time
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment