Quote:
Originally Posted by bomelia
I got a serious tan last week. So much so, I am now required to carry a green card.
Mike
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Mike,
Now, that's funny.
How's your feet doing? Are they starting to heal?
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Quote:
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Originally Posted by cobra bill
Maybe there selling something else besides a tan in there  |
Bill,
Whatever it is, it apparently causes skin cancer...
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Years and years ago, I had an unfortunate incident regarding tanning salons. I was already beginning railroading, but didn't get called to work often enough to make a living at it. I was frequently working a yard switching job and usually got off about 4:30 on those afternoons. To generate a little more cash, I had contracted up this remodeling job at a tanning salon where I was building another room just for a masseuse. The complex closed up at 8:00, so it was a mad scramble to get off work, get there, set up, and get much done every day. The railroad always called constantly whenever I had something else going.
The entire little salon complex was made by building cubicles with a common high ceiling, but the massage area was supposed to be somewhat accoustically sealed from the rest of the area (slapping sounds, moans etc
), so first I built a permanent standard 8 foot wall and then added an extension up another 6 feet or so, to be used only as long as the massage program ran.
I had merrily completed all the framing and drywall finishing and the last high stage was painting this high wall, which I did with the usual fervor, trying to get the dang thing done. Git 'er done ...collect the money ...one focus ...taking care of business.
All this time, the height of my ladder would have afforded me a view of the tanning portion. I was purposely very courteous to never glance in the direction of the tanning area, because I felt some females would have felt uncomfortable with me seeing them in their swimsuits, but the work had to be done and I thought they would understand. And they did for about a week.
Swimsuits, hell! Apparently folks tan in the buff...
I had no idea. I admit I hadn't given it much thought. I mean who would want to tan bare-azzed in a coffin-like thing that somebody else had just sweat like a naked butcher in?
. . . I have a good imagination, but even I don't go that far.
And why hadn't somebody said something in the several days previous? Geez.
Towards the end of the job the lady salon owner that hired me, rudely jumped me about it, like I was some kind of pervert.
Well, I am a pervert ...but I would have never willingly and openly compromised my business integrity by letting on in such an obvious manner, had I known. It was one of the more embarassing moments in my life.
Me smiling naively as she approached, that was usually the time that they told me what a good job I was doing and thanked me. Little shock, there.
Wes
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