Tuesday, April 18, 2006

The Tanning Bed Diaries

Liz doesn't exaggerate one bit:

Around 10 years ago I was going to a tanning bed that I did not know was a front for a house of ill repute. Seriously. I was tanning at a whore house. Once I found out what they meant by "massages in the back room" I had a decision to make. The "girls" never charged me for my visits and it was the closest tanning bed to my house. What's a girl to do with this dilemma? I'll go ahead and admit that I kept on going; only ceasing my visits after I was propositioned in the parking lot by an obviously nervous and very married middle aged man. It wasn't much longer before the cops shut the place down.

It's 10 years later and I thought my tanning issues would be far behind me by now. I've started going to a place in my upscale "home"town and I've run into a whole new world of freakishness.

This salon is run by a bisexual man who is out there. He's currently dating an AIDS looking froo-froo fag that I absolutely adore, but worry about. They are often drinking screwdrivers before most people are having lunch. For Easter they gave the hair stylists plastic eggs filled with pills. One of them has a shirt that mentions touching his monkey. The owner is always wired and his boyfriend is always drunk.

Tonight I went in and it was ON. Now, you have to remember that this salon is in a high-end town with mostly middle aged mothers as clients. I come in and the radio is thumping loud dance music and it's Fire Island! These dudes have invited 4 or 5 kids under 18 to the salon and probably 3 additional strung-out looking adults, including one she-man that made me a little uncomfortable. All are sitting around with their drinks and cigarettes (inside the business, of course) and they are CELEBRATING the froo-froo's birthday. I have no issue with the homosexual lifestyle and I'm certainly a fan of people having fun, but the bumping, grinding, and humping that I witnessed may have stolen years off my life. It was GRAPHIC. At one point the owner asked me to take of my clothes and stay a while. Ewwwww.

I don't have to ask if skin cancer is worth it. Of course! After all, every 5th time I go to this tanning bed I am rewarded with a complimentary cocktail of my choice. I do worry though- this may be the second time I've been surveillanced by the police for my tanning bed activities. Look ma, no tan lines!

1 comment:

steej71 said...

And now you're flashing your manicurist. I bet the police have a separate filing cabinet just for your exploits.