Dark Beauties

My friend Carol, glass of white wine in hand, took a dramatic step backward, looked Micki and me up and down and then with a playful twinkle in her eye proclaimed “You white girls go through an awful lot of trouble, don’t you?” Carol was referring to our freshly tanned bodies. Well freshly, spray-tanned anyway. We were the talk of the Harbor Montessori School auction that year, not really victims of gossip, since we were the ones sharing the story, but something like that. Actually, a lot of people still talk about it, proving that you can have more than 15 minutes of fame.

It was March of 2008 and we had been training religiously for our very first half-marathon. We found ourselves feeling fit and toned. And with newly toned muscles, came cuter dress choices, and cuter dresses showed off a bit more skin and that skin was white, very white. I am not sure how the topic of spray tanning came up or how the final decision was made to do it, but decide we did. On the day of the auction Micki and I met at the tanning chain Desert Sun and it is here the legend begins…

It was, of course, raining out, but inside was a surreal mix of bright lights, yellow walls, coconut scented air and unnaturally dark-skinned people with bleach blond hair and ultra bright teeth. There were two people behind the counter who were expecting us when we came in. They were quite a pair-a blond male with a condescending smile and a blonder female who was bopping her head to the Jonas Brothers. Oh, I guess I should mention that Micki, who was in business savvy mode when making our appointment, was able to get us a really nicely priced package to share. The package included eight spray tans. The catch of course, was that the people at Desert Sun, might have been led to believe that we were a couple. Now what constitutes a couple anyway? Is it a couple of friends, a couple of pals, a couple of bumbling idiots? If so then, we were a couple. Still, they might have been thinking we were both living under the same roof, sleeping in the same bed and going by the same last name. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

So there I was with my wife, waiting to get our spray tans on. I was in a bit of a panic, I’m not a huge fan of being sprayed with chemicals, nor am I all that trusting of small enclosed places. So as I was talking myself through the panic, the blond girl was quickly explaining how the spray tan worked. There was something about a hair net, and cream to put on our hands so they wouldn’t look unnaturally dark. There were some other directions, too, but she assured us there would be a computer voice talking us through it. “Listen to the voice & you’ll be fine.” I knew Micki was going first, so she could fill me in on any directions I missed. Micki headed to the back room while I read a fantastically educational magazine called “People”.

She came out a few minutes later with a sheepish look on her not-so-dark face. She was trying to talk, but I could barely understand her. At first I thought she was hyperventilating, but I soon realized she was hysterically laughing. So here’s what happened. The spray tan booth is basically a shower and inside it there are designated spots to stand on. These spots put you at the right distance to get an all over body spray. Micki, however, missed that tidbit of instruction and instead stood right in front of the sprayer. This means the sprayer managed to only spray her torso. It looked as if her head, neck and legs had been vacationing in the Nordic region, while her belly button had the pleasure of touring the equator. Oh and did I mention she forgot to turn around when signaled, so she got sprayed twice in the front and not at all in the back.

The kind people behind the counter rolled their eyes, exchanged glances and let Micki go for another round for free. This time Micki was able to do it right and she looked pretty good, too. I was relieved that she was the one who botched things up and nerves aside, felt pretty confident that I wouldn’t do the same.

So in I went. First step was getting naked in this cold little room. Next step the special hand cream that blocks the spray tan, then lock the door, set the first of two “on” buttons and, oops! Almost forgot the hair net; now that would be a disaster. Put on the hair net and step into the shower. Locate the metal plates to stand on (the ones Micki missed) press the next “on” button which closes the door and prepare.

It might help to remember that I was anxious about this whole thing and now as I listened to the soothing computer voice countdown 10, 9, 8, my heart was starting to race a bit, 7, 6, 5, it only lasts 60 seconds I reassured myself, so I should be okay and this computer voice talks you through the whole thing anyway, 4, 3, 2, 1….

YIKES!!! I had no idea that the spray would be both cold and extremely powerful. I startled, sucked in a huge gulp of chemical spray and, out of reflex, I threw my hand over my face-apparently some instinctual protection-cover your money maker. Of course that hand had that tan-block on it, and it would leave a nice print on my face, but I didn’t realize this just yet. Through all the internal chaos, I heard the computer voice say something, but had no idea what. Just at that moment the spray stopped. I felt sure this was to allow people to exhale; assuming everyone to ever spray tan had a huge anxiety attack in the booth and held their breath. That must have been what the voice was telling me-you are about to get a break to take a courtesy breath and then we will proceed. The voice started counting down again and I readied myself for the upcoming spray. And I was sprayed- on the front. I thought nothing of this. The voice came on again. The spray stopped and I prepared to turn around, the booth had other plans. The door opened and the machine turned off. That is when I realized that the courtesy break to catch my breath was actually the time I was supposed to be turning around. That’s what the computer voice was telling me, but somehow I missed it. So now I had the task of going out and saying that I, too, messed up my session and I, too, only got my front sprayed.

At some point before reaching the front desk, I stopped and looked in a mirror. This is when I notice my nose and part of my cheek were discolored. They were white, of course, because of the tan blocker. This changed my priorities from getting my back tanned to somehow fixing my striped face. The people at the front desk, who were probably texting each other about what idiots we were, gave me a special tanning lotion to put on my nose and cheek. It was basically like the self-tanner you by at the store, only faster acting. With a little scrubbing and the use of the cream, the idea was, my polychromatic face would somehow find a middle ground and look normal. All I could do was wait. With only four hours until auction time, I went ahead and did a second session in the booth, (not for free) this time spraying my back only. The second round, to the best of my recollection, was uneventful.

Micki and I left Desert Sun swearing to never go back. We went home, (to our separate homes), and watched as our skin got progressively darker. Just like any other tanning experience, the color gradually increases all day. Micki was pretty dark and her belly was very dark, as it had two coats on it. My entire body was very dark, since I did a double session on the front the first time and a double on the back the second time. We walked into the auction looking nothing like the alabaster girls we were the day before. And since almost everyone at the auction actually saw us at school the day before, well, we couldn’t pretend to have just returned from Bali or Hawaii or the planet Mercury. And so we went with the truth, putting delicious little smiles on all the people at the auction that night. I like to think that despite it all, we still looked pretty good. Funny though, there are no pictures to prove my theory.

Just like any other traumatic experience, the horrible details faded to the back of our minds, only to come rushing back, when on auction day the next year we walked into Desert Sun for a spray tan and the guy behind the counter said, “Hey I remember you two.”