Xperience 4
No matter how gay you may perceive a man to be, there is nothing right about bending over while said good looking gay man sprays your bum.
While you have a giggle or choke (depending on whether your mind is in the gutter or next to it), let me explain.
I bought a really nice dress and killer heels for a wedding this coming weekend. I tried it on for a friend to get the official Friend OK, when I saw her eyes wander to my legs. Crap, I thought, the dress is too short. My friend assured me it’s not, but that I should seriously get some UV on them.
I’m not too keen on tanning and sport a 40SPF on my face every day. So my friend suggested a spray on tan for the pastiness (her words, not mine).
So I made my appointment and got my list of do’s and no’s.
Shave and exfoliate before.
No deodorant (huh? It’s summer, dammit)
No moisturisers (mental note to wear a long skirt)
Underwear you don’t feel sorry for.
Loose fitting clothes (pyjamas??)
And no getting wet for 8 hours afterwards.
With the above list ticked off and a vague feeling I need some perfume I arrived at the salon.
The friendly and slightly gay, very beautiful man behind the desk asked me to complete a form, after I confirmed it’s my first appointment with them.
We then discussed my new tan’s hue and decided on something natural and light. I do not want to look like one of those women from Jerseyliscious.
The Spray Room is completely bare except for a chair for my clothes, a towel on the floor and something that looks like a vacuum cleaner.
I take off my clothes and wait. And in walks the same good looking man. Oi, right around here I suddenly have about 57 serious problems with this whole experience.
For one I’m wearing my “salon g-string”, the black one for when I visit Maryke for that wax thing every few weeks. Which brings me to the next point, it might be time to go again… And now I see that said pair of perfectly good nickers is starting to look a bit old.
Also I could for the life of me not remember why I thought this beautiful, brown eyed man is gay.
All would have been fine until it turns out that he needs to be fairly close to you to make sure the coverage is even.
Whilst bent over with my arms open like wings (can you SEE the picture??) and the vacuum spraying my tan over my bum, I just kept on repeating, like a mantra, “He better be gay, please let him be gay, crap, I HOPE he’s gay!”
Then when he’s sure I’m all sprayed, off comes the bottle part and he uses the nozzle to blow dry me…and the mantra started again.
After I got dressed and regained some composure (ha! whatever) I walked back to reception with the question, how the hell do I look this man in the eye?
Easy. As soon as I walked in, he offered me a cup of coffee while we chatted away. After all, he’ll see me up close again sometime in the future, might as well make a girlfriend out of him.
365xperiences 