So here is my story. As many of you know, the lovely Sarah Campbell wed the handsome Trey Novara (let's all say it one time together...Dr. Sa-Rah No-Var-A...it just has such a rhyming charm to it doesn't it?) on December 12. The ceremony was beautiful, the bride and groom looked perfect, every detail went as planned, and I as well as the rest of the guests had a ball. We all had so much fun! Thank you Sarah and Trey.
I was lucky enough and excited to be one of Sarah's bridesmaids...and before any height jokes ensue, no I was not the flower girl, but the junior bridesmaid WAS taller my height. My concern leading up to this blessed occasion though was that the low-backed black and champagne bridesmaid dress, although gorgeous, would make an awfully drastic contrast against my Casper white, middle-of-winter skin causing the rest of the wedding guests to be distracted by asking "Does that bridesmaid look sick to you?"
So how does one go from looking pasty white to soft sunny glow in the middle of winter without the threat of skin cancer and looming wrinkles you might ask? Good question. Because my efforts managed to turn me the color of Equator orange.
There were many warning signs along the way, but with the goal of simply gaining a little "color" I went on a search for a proper spray tan. I have to say I have done this a few times before but only in Montgomery and in Auburn and only with something called Mystic Tan (it's a booth that you go into that sprays you evenly...think Ross on that episode of Friends...prayerfully without his uneven tone). So I set out looking for a place I could get a Mystic Tan in Birmingham.
Here is a helpful piece of advice. Googling a place before getting in the car is probably a good idea. Instead I decided it would be sufficient to put the word "tan" into my Garmin and see what the results were and go to the one closest to home. Garmin took me to a promising place that was conveniently located only about a half mile away. Perfect, I thought...
To my disappointment, the receptionist informed me that they did not have a Mystic Tan machine but that they did their spray tans by hand. Now, it may just be me, but something about this idea has just never set well with me. So I decided to be honest and ask her if she knew a place that would have Mystic Tan. She promptly told me of a place that she preceded by saying "I mean...it's really sketchy and its in the back of a laundromat...." No Thank You.
Attempt #2 and another address compliments of Garmin led me into an area of Birmingham that I have never seen before and to a residential home. Strike 2.
So I decided to forego Garmin and instead set out to a place that I remembered which is off of I-459. SUCCESS! I was relieved to see the comforting purple, bright pink and gold shimmer poster advertising Mystic Tan! Upon entering the place, I noticed that they do their tanning a bit high-tech in comparison to other places . All of the tanning beds stand up instead of lay down. They look like tiny little silver futuristic portals or possibly port-o-potties depending on your point of view. The platinum blonde SUPER high-ponytailed girl behind the counter greeted me with a predictably airheaded "Hi" and proceeded to ask what I wanted to do. I told her that I would like a Mystic Tan but that I had not gotten one in a while and would like a refresher course on how to avoid blotchy spots, uneven tone and general orange-ness.
"Oh we will go over all that lay-terrrr, but first, like what level would you like?" she asked.
Excited to get insta-tanned, I responded with a simple "medium, please."
She looked at me perplexed (not such a stretch to begin with) and said "Ummm, nooo. We only offer clear original, clear premium, bronze original and bronze premium." Apparently the rules of Mystic Tan had changed. So I asked what the difference was. She explained that there were two levels, clear and bronze and that premium lasted longer a.k.a costed more.
"Here, let me show you a pict-chure." She proceeded to show me a fair skinned girl who looked decently normal with the clear level applied and looked as if she had been dipped in liquid copper on the bronze level.
"Clear, Please."
She then took me to the booth where I would be receiving my spray tan. To my surprise it was not the big, spacious purple machine I was used to but instead one of the silver mini tubes that the other tanning beds were in. I should have recognized that the directions would have also changed since my last spray.
I carefully took in every word and was only confused on one very significant part.
"Once you're finished with the spray, you'll walk into the secondary section of the booth (which is barely large enough for the tiny towelettes they provide you with) where you will hit this button on the ceiling and a drying lamp will come on. Now, when the lamp goes off, if you don't feel dry enough, you could always come out of the booth and go into one of the other tanning booths and stand in front of the fan."
Um, I'm sorry. I'm sure you realize as well as I do by now that you must entirely de-robe to get a spray tan and when that spray is still damp you would not be re-robing...get my drift? But Valley girl here is trying to tell me to step my naked rear into the wide-open lobby with a clear glass front and walk myself into another booth? I don't think so. I was a bit thrown by this but decided not to ask any questions.
I stepped into the booth and did all the motions as she asked. I put on the blocker cream and the shower cap and nearly broke my neck trying to hobble around in that tiny little cylinder all the while being reminded of my pastey white, hasn't-worked-out-since-last-January self because the inside of the booth is mirrored glass. I thought to myself "awesome, I just paid $30 to have my self-esteem squashed."
I could barely reach the button meant to start the machine, in which this glossy voice came over a speaker and said "Hello....welcome to Mystic Tan...please proceed to the spraying platform." I nearly jumped out of my winter white skin when the booth started talking to me. I did as the ominous voice said and walked in a circle as I got sprayed with less than pleasant smelling tanning liquid and somehow managed to follow the directions.
After the spraying ceased, I went to turn on the drying lamp. I forgot a very important piece of information. The button is on the ceiling. The button that I CAN'T REACH is ON THE CEILING. So there I am, dangly from a hook trying to pull myself up so that I can even nudge the miserable knob that is meant to dry me off (or of course I could've just run out into the lobby, shower cap and all, and hopped in another booth according to my little friend behind the desk). Instead, I became resourceful and piled up as many things as I could find in my little booth to stand on so that I could reach the button. So I stood there like a Whopper under the heating lamps until my tan was dry. Unsure of the final outcome of the tan, I redressed and left my silver cylinder and headed home.
I found that the next day I looked as if I too had been dipped in liquid copper. Can you imagine if I had chosen the bronze level? So when you look at the beautiful pictures of Sarah and Trey from their wedding and you ask yourself, "who is that little Latin American child?" You'll know it's me.
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