Your Tan Looks Streaky. Wait, That's Just...Never Mind.

I'm busy with some things (BIG THINGS!!!), so you'll have to forgive this post which is apropos of nothing, but I just remembered a story I once heard, and by writing about that story here, I'm saving myself the trouble of thinking of something on my own. This is what they call "efficiency". And also plagiarism, except this story has never been written down before, so I'm good.

My sister and her boyfriend just opened up their very own tanning salon and I'm super excited for them and also I'm wondering how they're ever going to be open every day of the week because my sister is kind of famous for her ability to SLEEP FOREVER, never waking up except to sleep some more, and I'm guessing this whole 7 Days a Week thing is going to seriously impede on her naps. Although she has been working several jobs at a time, so really she's probably used to never sleeping, especially since her daughter is three (which is the same thing as on crack), so maybe I'll just take everything back that I just said. But really, my sister is a champion sleeper. Just don't fall asleep in the tanning bed, girl.

Anyway, back in the days when I tanned regularly (before I was afraid of death and cancer and cold sores) I used to frequent a salon near my rental house. The place was great, but I noticed they didn't keep garbage cans in the rooms so I always had to carry out my paper towels, baby wipes, etc and ask to use the trash behind the front counter. It was weird, like they wanted to inspect our garbage before we disposed of it just to be sure we hadn't used excessive amounts of paper products or something.

Eventually I asked about the missing garbage cans and the (incredibly, unhealthily opaquely bronzed) salon employee explained that the owner decided to remove the cans after one too many customers opted to use them as TOILETS.

Now, I'm a shower pee-er, and proud of it. I'll pee in a lake, a pool (NEVER INVITE ME TO YOUR HOUSE), the woods, on the side of the road, in a urinal...anywhere, basically. But I will not pee in a diaper and I will certainly never pee into a tiny little trash can. Especially when the establishment offers perfectly lovely restroom accomodations at the end of the hall.

I expressed my surprise to the salon employee, who assured me that urine was not the problem. Poopers. People were consistently pooping in the garbage cans.

There's really no good way to end a story like that.