Thursday, September 18, 2008


I cannot believe that I now have any experience with this subject, which in the past I have expressed nothing but disdain for.

Disdain, that is, until I tried on a dress that made me appear to be an illustration from “Ghosts of America”. My skin looked like the white underbelly of a fish, blending with the beige of the dress to create the understated yet hideous fashion statement of having a wasting disease.

My daughters go to the tanning salon on a regular basis. “Isn’t it relaxing?” asked Mary Kate.



Why sure.

Here are some of my relaxing thoughts:

Gosh this is loud.

This is really scary.

Is it supposed to be this loud?

Maybe the bed is broken.

I wonder if the girl remembered to set the timer.

Maybe the timer is broken.

Do I have enough bronzer on? I think I don’t have enough bronzer on.

Maybe I have too much bronzer on.

Maybe I will turn orange.

I think she forgot to set the timer.

Gosh it’s getting hot.

Is hair flammable?

I am positive she forgot to set the timer.

Could this bed be defective?

Maybe it’s defective and has freakishly strong UV rays.

Maybe I am going to burst into flames any minute. Starting with my hair.

Agh!! Agh!!! I am going to end up in the burn center swathed in bandages and loaded with IV pain killers.

Actually, now that I mention it, that last part doesn’t sound too bad.

She forgot to set the timer!! I know it, I know it!!! I am going to be immolated, I know it!!! My children will gaze sadly at my charred remains, hold each other and say “I hope she left some money.”

The whole store will burn down and it will be all my fault. It will be known as the “The Great Tanning Disaster of 2008” and will have my name inexorably linked to it because it will turn out I had some weird genetic predisposition to spontaneous combustion when exposed to a tanning bed.

I will not only die a horrible death, but an embarrassing one too.

CLICK!!!!!!! The machine snaps off. Phew!!! I am alive, unscathed and, um… pink.

Alrighty then, all ready for tomorrow!!!


Anonymous said...

Ha!Ha! After reading this, I will never, ever enter a tanning salon!

Da Old Man said...

You sound like me. :)

I never did the tanning salon, but have been in MRI with nearly the same thoughts

Paul Burman said...

And pink? Is that the way it's supposed to work?? I remember being told as a kid by a friend's uncle that I looked like a human milk bottle, but getting pretty burned whenever I tried to change things. It wasn't worth the pain or the risk to oscillate between a walking milk bottle and a human-lobster! 8~)

Marie said...

Manju, why do I think you probably have more common sense in Mumbai than we do in New Jersey and therefore do not have tanning salons!!

I used to feel the same way too, Joe, but after three years of probably 15 MRI's, I have found I am used to them. Never thought that would happen!!!!

Oh, Paul, you poor thing, a human milk bottle?!?! That is indeed white. What a mean thing to say to a kid, though.

Fortunately I am now brown-ish, but did start out pink. I do not think that is the way it is supposed to work. But Pinking Salon does not have the same cachet. lol

Today I managed to burn my bum. When I wriggled around in the bed to make myself comfortable [less hysterical] I managed to get two little crescents of my backside burned.

Alright, alright, BIG crescents. Sheesh. Picky, picky, picky.

And I followed this by having the hair on my legs and under my arms torn out by the roots. This is otherwise known as waxing. Because "Tearing Your Hair Out By the Roots" would definitely be less appealing.

Anonymous said...

This is one of the funniest posts I've ever read. Please become a stage comic...please.

Marie said...

Hey, thanks Chantal!!!!! That is the greatest compliment anyone can give me!!!

I love being funny. I have a pathological need to make people laugh.

But a stage comic!!! Being funny is easy for me, but whoa, that is HARD!!