A Conquered Fear

I've never been one to think unnaturally tanning your skin as something that is actually enjoyable or attractive for that matter.  I mean haven't you ever seen Final Destination 3? After watching the scene where two girls are tanning together in the same room in tanning beds that encapsulate them completely from head to toe, and then literally getting fried to death in the beds because of an electric problem gone bad,  I have NEVER had the desire to go tanning. The thought of being trapped in a capsule of light for minutes on end TERRIFIES me. Elevators scare me enough, and I get claustrophobic pretty easily. I've never been ashamed of the paper white shade of my skin, and I am also afraid of getting skin cancer at an early age. However, I am going to Florida for Spring Break this year and a friend told me that I should get a "base tan" so I don't burn like a lobster the first time I sit in the sun for ten minutes. After much persuading, and reassuring me that two or three times in a tanning bed won't kill me, I decided to go with a group a group of girls to Sun Tan City right here in Lynchburg.
So there I went. Having not the slightest idea what to expect, I went right up to counter inside the salon and asked about what kind of bed I should use for my very first time tanning. The very orange girl at the counter obnoxiously chewing her gum handed me a form and a pen and said "Fill this out". I proceeded to fill out a form that asked questions about what color my eyes are, and if I freckles or not. And then I came across the part where you have to sign your name pretty much saying that if anything happens to you, you're not going to sue the company for any harm done to you by the tanning beds. So reluctantly,  I checked the box and signed my name on the dotted line. The orange woman tried to sell me a tanning package, and I told her that I just wanted a glow for Florida so I wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb amongst all the other orange and very beautiful dark looking women on the beach. Looking me up and down, she said, "Hunny, one week is not going to turn your pale skin bronze." I thought to myself for a minute about what rude comment I could hurl back at her, and how I didn't want to look like a raw carrot like she did. If "bronze" is attractive nowadays, that's okay with me, I'll keep my ugly white skin. You can keep your orange-ness.

So anyway, minutes later, I finally get called back into the tanning room. I go inside, and close the door, not really sure what to do next. I kind of look at the bed, look at the hooks on the side of the wall, look at the bed, look at the hooks, and finally realize that I have to something, there's no backing out and looking like a chicken on front of all my friends now. Instead of removing any clothing, I call Lori, my roommate, who is sitting outside waiting for her turn to tan. "Lori! What do I do in here!?" I asked. "Do you have all your clothes off?!" she said. I looked down at my body. "Well no!?" I whispered. My hands were getting clammy now. Sweat seemed to be dripping off my forehead. "Well take them off!" She yelled. "Even my underwear?" I asked, "Yes, even your underwear!" When I had finally taken off my clothes, Lori told me to get into the bed and close the lid over my body. Still on the phone, I asked her what to do next. She said to turn on the bed and I asked her if I was going to burn and how did the bed know when to turn itself off. Lori told me the obvious, and I finally got off the phone, extremely embarrassed and still trembling with fear. I counted down from 5 in my head and turned on the bed. The noise and brightness of lights startled me so bad that I shook the bed and let out a whimper of terror. So I began to bake in the human fake baker. Eight minutes, seven, six, five . . . four. The scene from Final Destination played over and over again in my head, but I tried to shew away the thoughts. Soon my fears subsided. And then I started to enjoy the heat, remembering the hot Florida sun and hearing the waves crash against the beach. Maybe tanning wasn't so bad afterall.

Then, right as I started to enjoy myself. . .BAMMM! The bed shut off! And I was awakened from my dreams on the beach! I pushed open the lid of the bed and climbed out. Felt like I was emerging from an egg or something. Like is this what little chickens feel like when they're being born? Hm. Maybe. Standing in front of the mirror, I looked up an down at myself. My freckles seemed to have risen to the surface of my skin. That's it. I wasn't tan, just freckly. Just freckly. 

I wobbled back outside to the waiting room, never more happier to see the actual sunlight in my life. "How was it?" The girls asked, excited. "Hated it", I said.

The funny thing is, I went two more times this week. And I guess it's kind of addictive in a strange way. Whodathunkit. My ginger self in a tanning bed. I did it, I conquered my fears.
That's right my friends, I have temporarily come over to the dark side: literally.