And I Thought One Tanning Room Mishap Was Enough

I’m pretty sure my life would be a lot easier if I weren’t so vain. You know…I wouldn’t have to do my hair, or put makeup on in the morning. I could sleep for, like, 45 extra minutes every day. That would be the life! Except that I AM vain, and frankly…I wouldn’t let myself leave the house…ever…if I didn’t “fix myself up” every day. I guess that would allow me to sleep for, like, 24 extra hours every day...but, you know…I’m sure I’d get sick of excessive sleep and relaxation eventually. Like…ten years from now.

It is my vanity that leads me to tan several times a week. We’ve talked about my tanning love before. We’ve talked about the potentially humiliating positions said love has put me in. I don’t think that any bad tanning experience will EVER rival my original bad tanning experience, (in case you missed it, read about it here) I think that the cosmos are working to make sure that every once in a while I rue the day that I discovered the glorious effects of a sun bed.

Today I was getting ready to tan, and I set my pants on the chair next to the bed. See, I’ve learned a thing or two, I didn’t set anything on the top of the bed anymore! Anyway…I brushed against said chair and my pants slid off. No biggie…it’s not like I’ve never thrown a pair of my pants on the floor before. So…I finished putting my lotion on, and then reached down to grab my pants so they wouldn’t get wrinkled.

Instead of coming effortlessly off of the floor, however, my pants resisted. Knowing that pants don’t generally have a mind of their own, I leaned down for further inspection. I thought maybe the chair leg was on them or something. Not sure how I thought that might have happened…but you know…what else are you going to think? I don’t know…maybe you’d think that somehow your pants got entangled INSIDE the freaking fan that is sitting by the chair. If you would think that...you'd be right.

I don’t even know how it happened….but my pants were sucked inside the fan. Mostly they slid right out…except for the button…which had decided it was too big to slide through the bars. Um…so HOW in the crap did the button get through the bars in the first place? I DON’T KNOW! At first I thought it was just kind of funny. "Oh, the crazy things that happen to Janine in the tanning room." I even took a picture to send to my friends:

Of course, I thought it was funny because you’d think it wouldn’t be that hard to get the freaking button flush with my pants to pull it out the other way…but it was NOT happening. Like, the little fan bars are spaced too close together for me to get my finger through to press the button up against the rest of the cloth…so it just kept catching when I tried to pull it out. When I would release the pressure, it would sort of relax itself, almost fully against the material…but then as soon as I tried to ease it out…it would flip around again. I wanted to scream! What the freaking crap???

Of course my “get ready” time expired and my tanning bed came on. I considered just getting in the bed, but I didn’t want to have to wrestle with the freaking fan AFTER my tan…because I already have a reputation down there for taking forever and making ridiculously loud noises after tanning. So…the death-match with the fan was on, in the glow of ultra-violet light. I was totally stressing out because my tanning minutes were ebbing away, and I couldn’t get my freaking button out of the fan. I don’t pay for my monthly membership to get second hand rays from a bed that I’m not even in! ARGH!!!

Finally…after about 5 minutes of my tanning time had passed, I got the button out. I felt like punching my pants in the face, but they don't have a face, and I didn’t have time. I desperately hurried into the bed to get the most out of my remaining time…but I can TOTALLY tell that I’m 5 minutes less tan than I should be. : (

I’m starting to think that I need to just start tanning fully clothed in order to avoid clothing mishaps in the tanning room. I’ve already left the room with soaking wet arm pits…like a soggy butt and sweaty back would be any worse. At least I would keep all of my clothes under my control at all times.