Blacking up

Look up "Chocolate Rain" because it not only goes with the blog but it is also so stuck in my head I've been singing it for hours.

So today I went to get a spray tan. It seemed a bargain at £15 each for myself and Kristina and seemed a good idea at the time to get it done the night before the big leaving work evening. I was wrong.

The summary of events goes as follows: Kristina was taken into a room for around 20 minutes. She came out looking like someone else because she had taken off her makeup and was a nice golden brown! She tells me the lady who did the spray tan asked her what colour she would like to go and on hearing "not orange, anything but orange", the decision was made to go with chocolate brown.

I was not given this option people. I was not asked "would you like to be a bit browner, golden or Nigerian" - I was just sprayed Nigerian.

It was the weirdest situation ever really. I was asked to strip and go and stand on the other side of the room in the spray booth which seemed a thousand miles away from the door and also on a platform so it was like a stage really! I was all fidgety and trying to hide my bareness with my arms but also wanting to appear all relaxed and normal. I pretended to have something in my eye purely so I could lift up my right arm thus covering at least the right boob from show.

And in saunters a woman who does a superb job of not vomiting on the spot when she saw my stomach or doing that "I can't help but look so I will try and do it shiftily" glance down at the ladies. Her will power impressed me.

As I stood on my stage of nakedness waiting for the questions about what colour I would like to go, I watched her fill up the sprayer whilst she talked merrily away about holidays. I was not listening to a single word she said because my attention was transfixed on what she was putting in the spray machine. It was at this point my head was literally screaming "tell her she is filling the machine with tar Bear... Quickly now seriously she is pointing the nozzle at you and it's filled with something black... no.. no Sarah don't turn around so she can start spraying your back, TELL HER THERE IS BLACK INK IN THE --" pssssssssshhhhhhhhtttttt.... "nice one Rowlands. Too late now".

THEN I did the most stupid thing after she finished.. I asked her when it would be ok to epilate my legs and she said "oh in that case you need another layer if you want to epilate". Brain dials the mouth but only receives the answer machine.. and leaves quite an abusive message - "don't fucking let her spray you again twat head!!! think of the Ross off FRIENDS episode!! No DON'T!!! - pssssssssssssssshhttttt.

I figure it can't be too bad because people get them done all the time. But when people started to stare, children started to cry, and people who were getting there hair done nudged each other and said "didn't that girl used to be white?" I figured I may have made an error. It might be paranoia but I am pretty sure people were shocked when I spoke with a northern accent as apposed to one you would associate with someone from Trinidad.

Oh well I guess. Better to be confused as someone from Afro-caribean decent than Welsh.