March 8th, 2010
I have to tell you that since I started spray tanning I have had some quite interesting peeps in windows of the landscape of American sexual behaviour. Let me tell you, people tell me some pretty interesting stuff.
In case any members of my family are reading (my two main readers being my father and my cat) get off line now.
Now to me – it would seem pretty obvious that if you have just gotten a spray tan, you have the mist of bronzer on you, self tanner is developing on your skin – you should curb yourself from the overwhelming desire to rub yourself up and down against another human being or a pair of white sheets. It is quite obvious that you are going to get the self tanner on the other person.
I had one upper east side dame call me infuriated that her husband had accidently completely tanned his head during some night time under the covers safari.
Another really smart client confided in me that see had designed a cheetah body suit with a hole cut out, so that if the need for the horizontal mambo became so insatiable that it couldn’t be deferred 6 hours – she was perfectly equipped to deal with whatever “came up” in a hygenic yet suitably cheeky manner. Perhaps we should sell her design with all our other “after- tan care products”?
A really sweet southern belle actually asked me what she should do if her husband “pulled a move on her”? This really cracked me up, I couldn’t imagine that within the structure of a marriage you would not be able to gently say to your partner “not tonight Josephine, my spray tan is developing…but I’m gonna look really hot tomorrow night.” Not in that southern marriage. She came up with a whole deflection method with a very involved scenario about how she was not going to get to the meat and potatoes of sex but how she would fob him off with an appetizer. And then I had to have a vision of that whole proceedings going on in my own head for about two days….this is why shrinks get paid a hell of a lot more than spray tanners.
I have one really embarrassing self tanning story that actually happened to me. It is not to do with sex – but seems appropriate for this particular blog. My daughter was a little tiny baby and I guess got a little too close to me while nursing during the night. the next day I had to get up bright and early to board the Hampton Jitney to head for a weekend in South Hampton. In the flurry of morning packing I guess I didn’t look too closely at my baby – but in the bright summer noonday sun, as I was waiting on some packed corner of Third Avenue, I glanced down at my child and inadvertantly screamed. It looked as if I, queen spray tanner of NYC, had took it upon myself to spraytan a tiny infant. My tiny daughter was tan from head to toe from sleeping squashed up against me. At that exact moment some wretched woman who might have been a clone of Elaine from Seinfeld, uttered (at the top of her lungs) “Oh my god – someone has spray tanned their baby!” I am normally quite calm and even tempered, but I think I took her birkenstock and shoved it, in its entirety, up her nostril.
And so – as my parting message – my spray tanning sermon on the mount for the week – please learn a humble lesson. Be careful where you put your second hand spray tan.
