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Friday 7 October 2011

Sexual Chocolate

Spray tans are fucking retarded. This is not the first time I’ve said this. Anyone who had anything to do with my wedding will know that I hate spray tans. I tried to install someone with a squirt gun of tan remover at every entrance to politely mist all of the orange people. I think people who get spray tans are stupid. However, I also think that people who sunbake are stupid and people who go to solariums are stupid. Just be the colour you are.
This being said, I have a big night of dance performances tomorrow, and everyone else would be a nice shade of terracotta. I decided that I would give the lightest colour of spray tan a shot, just so that my translucent thighs wouldn’t reflect the spot lights.
My friend is bridesmaid in a wedding tomorrow and she is the same caspery see through white that I am. I convinced her to join me in a spray tanning escapade. We discussed it and decided we would feel weird about having a perky leathery painted lady see our bits in all their naked floppy glory, and then apply a coat of varnish to them, so we would go to the automated booth and hope no one had cut a spy hole in it to laugh at us.
My friend went in first and came out looking relatively unscathed. She said it wasn’t bad, just noisy and hot. I was second to go for the privilege. I stripped down in the hot little room after the man explained to me that you have to put the barrier cream over your hands and on the tops of your feet. I stepped into the booth and placed my left foot on the number 1 and my right foot on the number 3 and held my arms like I was a dingle dangle scarecrow. I got sprayed from top to bottom and rotated, then bottom to top and rotate, then put my left hand in and took my left hand out and then put my left hand in and shook it all about. I felt like I was in the person version of Pimp My Ride.
I then towelled off and got back into my loose fitting dark clothing and no bra. It was a uniquely awkward experience. When I arrived home, I grabbed my book and set myself up on the sofa to read for a while. Then I decided to paint my nails. Painting my nails is very relaxing to me. As I had just finished putting the final coat on of a colour I like to call “Who the fuck makes nail polish in this colour green?” I happened to look down. I was sitting cross legged and happy in my own little bubble of nail painting glory, and what do I see? Actually, I have no idea.
I stare at my feet a little longer and still can’t make sense of what I’m seeing. Why are the bottoms of my feet the colour of Tim Tams? I don’t understand. Some days I’m a little slow. Then, I realise... The fucking spray tan. It’s on the floor of the booth. The booth I was standing in with my feet. Now, at this point I am sitting on my sofa and laughing. I am staring at my feet and laughing, like a baby, or a numpty. Tears are running down my cheeks I’m laughing so hard. I go to look in the mirror to see if all of me is a sexy sensual chocolate delight and realise that no, I am still white. I’m white everywhere. Everywhere, that is, except the bottom of my feet. I am in fact, a reverse black person. I’m like Oprah in the negative, a turned about Whoopi Goldberg... It’s always been a secret dream of mine to be black, and now, through the bottom of my feet, I’m finally living that dream.

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