Ahhh...the wonders of self-indulgence. For the very first time in my short life, I went tanning. Before you say, "What are you? A freak? (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)", let me explain myself. It's in preparation of our honeymoon to St. Lucia next week. If you don't know St. Lucia is at 13° 54' north of the equator. That's really hot. Practically directly under the sun. So, I needed a crash course in tanning - fake baking if you will.
If you haven't been, the experience is surreal. First, stripping to your skivvies is a bit unnerving, especially when you think of the number and kind of people that have lied on those bulbs before you and took their skivvies off. Sure, they say it's sterilized, but how much can a spray can of water and an underpaid attendant do? But, I had already paid my 4-bucks, so I went for it. I gingerly got myself situated and the goggles in place. Through green goggles, I located the start button and the bulbs of bronze hummed to life. I quickly lowered the top of the electric coffin of fake sun and felt the heat instantly rise. (Wow, this really does work!) The aroma of the ghost of cocoa past filled the room and restored my earlier image of the patrons that have lied here before me. I calmly closed my eyes, listened to the wonderfully rhymed - and reversed - words of Missy Misdemeanor, and thought, "Only two more songs like this, and 10 minutes will fly on by." That's when the commercials came on.
But I made it through and the lamps turned off to allow my escape. But little did I know those lamps are gifts that keep on giving. The first time I sat down while bowling, I felt the first gift. "Why is my back tingling?" Only, to come home and discover my nice white, round belly now looks like a seedless watermelon turned inside out. After 10 minutes? I am supposed to go do this again? And pay for it? I guess it's better now than on the beach on the honeymoon, if you know what I mean. All in the name of love.