So, I went tanning the other day. I'm not like a big tanner, nail getter doner, or anything of the type. (I'm the girl who wears her "good pajama pants" to the store remember?) Anyway, like I said I decided to go tanning.
You see we are leaving Thursday for Disneyland and then a cruise and I want to look cute. Shame me if you like but I would prefer that the glare off of my transparent skin didn't compete with the glare off the ocean.
So I go tanning. I'm wearing my red and blue plaid pajama pants and one of Jon's old shirts with a big old spaghetti stain on it. I walk in to be greeting by two enthusiastic high school girls in their bikinis and board shorts. They were behind the counter surfing the Internet and eating veggies out of a plastic sack. It was these two geniuses who were running the shop.
Genius #1 says: This white stuff is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO good! What is it?
Genius #2 says: It's broccoli, no, it's called cauliflower.
Genius #1: Cauliflower?
Genius #2: Yeah, you should ask your mom about it. She probably knows how to make it.
At this point I interrupted the cuisine lesson, paid $6.50 for 6 minutes in a ruva bed and then trusted said rocket scientists to light up the bazillion watt bed I was about to crawl inside.
Safe? Of course I felt safe. Who wouldn't with those two at the wheel? In fact, I felt so safe I've yet to return. So much for looking cute.
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Have you ever watched Sunset Tan? They sound like the Ollie Twins from that show. As I've said before, nothing good can come from tanning. I just wear pants.
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