My Spray Tan Helped Me Understand The Important Things In Life

spray tanNow I understand what’s truly important in life.   Because of my still fresh spray tan, my priorities are all lined up.

I’m the color of a perfectly cooked pork chop and people love me more. They think I’m younger and smarter and funnier. Now I understand every super brown weatherman. I’m sure I’m more trustworthy too.

Because of my bronze spray painted body, I now know I should have married for money instead of love. If I had money I would have so much work done (tastefully of course) I’d be the hottest woman in Arkansas.

I wouldn’t have my lips jacked up and nearly exploding like Angelina Jole,  but you can bet there wouldn’t be  laugh and smile lines criss-crossing my face like the interstate system.

I’d eat butter and cream and red meat every night, never do a crunch and my belly would still be as tight as a snare drum.  If I had money you could bounce a quarter on my stomach and it might come up and hit you in the face. And my hair would be a magnificent mane, long golden ringlets that sparkled in the sun. I’d toss my head back and forth, like a pony, just to make little children happy.

My ridiculously expensive wardrobe would exemplify casual elegance.  My dresses would make men smile. Little children would want to touch my skirts because the fabric would be magical. And I’d have high-heels that don’t hurt.

People would invite me to their parties and events just so I would smile and dazzle their guests, that’s how white and straight my teeth would be… if I had money.

My houses would be elaborate architectural wonders and my cars would all be red or baby blue  convertibles.

And my kids, Mary, Jack, Lex and Sandor, well if I had money my kids would be exactly the same, nothing would be different cause they are already perfect.

Almost Naked With A Stranger

tanMy brother Jack, used to say, “brown fat is better than white fat”. I know it’s not politically correct and pretty ugly but it’s actually true.

This weekend I have the honor of standing in the middle of an octagon, an MMA fight cage, as an announcer.  The event is taking place outside so I’m wearing a cute little purple sleeveless dress.  I’ve been out in the sun a lot but my legs were still distressingly white and 100 of folks will be looking at me….. so I decided to get a spray tan.

The fact that MMA fans tolerate a middle aged white lady as an announcer at a cage fight is pretty bizarre but a middle aged white lady who’s kind of pasty seemed like to much. Vanity gripped me like a boa constrictor.  I made an appointment.

I was told to shave and exfoliate that morning. And I wasn’t supposed to wear any deodorant or make-up.

All morning I considered my options. Should I just swing for the bleachers and strip naked when the girl spray painted me? Should I keep my panties and on? Should I wear a swimming suit. If I took off my bra were they going to paint under my boobs and how was that going to happen?

I actually like tan lines so I decided to go with panties and bra with no straps. And I made sure I didn’t wear granny panties. A tan line around my belly button wouldn’t be hot.

The spray tan artist was wonderful as she instructed me to turn this way and that, to lift my arms and spin around. She thought my bra was cute, that made me feel better. When she started squirting, it was cold as hell and I felt my white…soon to be bronze skin turn into goose flesh

Me coming out of R2D2. I'm Glowing!Once she was finished painting me I was given a towel to cover myself and walked to a stand up tanning booth. It looked just like a giant R2D2. Dropping my towel I stepped in, grabbed the vertical bars in front of me and listened as she closed the doors behind me. Then I was flooded by ultra violet light and blowing fans.  I was pretty sure I was about to be “beamed up or down” to a new location, maybe Tupolo Mississippi or Smackover.

When I finished drying  my skin still felt sticky almost tacky to touch. The artist girl told me not to sweat for the next eight hours or I’d get streaky.  She told me rainy days are a nightmarish for spray tans. She has to wrap women up in plastic bags and get them in their cars without getting wet.  If she doesn’t they end up splattered and polka-dotted.

It’s been four hours. I keep looking at my bronze arms.  I can’t decided if I look silly or hot. I just hope all those cage fight fans appreciate the things I go through  for them and I hope it doesn’t rain so I don’t leave a big tan puddle in the middle of the octagon….nothing sexy about that.