Tanning

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What do you think about when you are in the tanning both? Hopefully not what I do.   Let’s back this up. Yes I’ve gone tanning.  It’s free at my gym.  And when someone offers you something (cancer?) for free you shouldn’t be rude. You may ask “but guy, you will still be overweight and ugly, why do you need to tan?”  I don’t know.  Maybe I’m tired of blinding people when I take off my shirt at the beach.  Maybe I’m tired of people sticking their arm next to mine after a day in the sun to see if they got color.  Maybe I no longer care to live.

These are actually my first thoughts in the booth.  I quickly drown these out by turning up my music and trying to dance. You’re at the gym, might as well do some sort of physical activity.  Do some awkward stretch/dance/rock out combo that you can only allow yourself to do in this hot lamp closet of shame and vanity.  Oh crap was I singing out loud?  Oh god, I hope they can’t hear me.  There is a line of people just waiting outside the booth to laugh at me.  This combination of Justin Timberlake impersonations and being naked really gets me anxious.  Even if they can’t hear me, I’m nervous…what if they have cameras in here?!  I don’t know who the hell wants to see me sans pants but I immediately cup my junk just in case.  I freak out for 10 minutes (in reality 20 seconds) until I realize it’s highly unlikely that someone would risk jail time to spy on my fat ass (or any of the other overweight slugs that go to my gym).  Okay I’m fine.  Hmm…should I go for a Buffalo Bill tuck? Nah, you never know where people have secrets cams these days.

Sometimes I plan out the rest of my day. This is not a good idea when you forget something you should have done already. I’m trapped. Nooooooooo.  I need to go home and order new Harry Potter checks right now!  But you resist. It’s only ten minutes, you’ll take care of those checks as soon as you get home.  Let’s enjoy the uncomfortable heat….Oh shit, forgot to set the DVR to record Swamp People. Claustrophobic again. I need to go home. Stop button, where are you? Which fucking direction is the door?!  Ahhhh  I’m out of the box.  And I have realized that I am not dressed about 10 seconds too late. So much for those hidden cameras exposing me.  Let’s just sneak back in there and hope no one noticed….

Now I’m actually dressed.  Gotta bring the pass back. Avoid eye contact. It’s like leaving a sex shop. Look both ways before shamefully exiting and immediately pretend that you’re coming from somewhere else. Even when you get home, you are not safe.  You still have to go into work the next day.  No fucking way am I admitting that I went tanning.  You look darker? Must’ve been from eating lunch outside yesterday, took an extra-long lunch, don’t tell the boss huh? (nudge nudge). Rather admit I was Buffalo Bill-ing all night than admit I was intentionally tanning.  You think I have no shame? There will be judgment. Whether you stay pale, or you fake bake your way to a less translucent state.  There’s always some Italian asshole to throw your white skin in your face.

I should really be writing about how it doesn’t matter how dark you are.  How people are so dumb that they will risk skin cancer to not be pale.  That people won’t even go outside anymore and how it’s scary how much both sexes embrace artificial tanning now.  I thought I was against this crap.  Am I really just this vain? Dumb? Hypocritical?  Probably all three. Wow, I really suck. I feel worse than in the booth.   Fucking society.  I just don’t find pale skin attractive anymore.   I won’t judge others for being pale and staying pale.  There’s nothing wrong with them (us). Of course, there’s nothing wrong with sneaking in a few tanning sessions and dating other races to avoid it either, right? Right?

  • Tanning (dayolddoughnuts.wordpress.com)
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2 thoughts on “Tanning

  1. Athena @ Fitness & Feta

    I’ve only gone tanning a few times in my life (I know, I know – the Greek blood), but when I have I’ve done two things.
    1) Squats until I get nervous that I’ll squat so low I’ll burn my ass on the lights on the door.
    2) Panic that ten minutes MUST have passed by now and start devising my escape plan.

    Reply
  2. Pingback: What it is to be a man? | dayolddoughnuts

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