Goose: Exposed.
Setting & Introduction: L pulls into the tanning salon's parking lot to start her work day off a bit late, but she figures it's OK, because it's June and not January, which means less to do in the mornings (
Read: the beds and booths don't have to be warmed up for the full time, just 5 or so minutes will do.) and usually there isn't anyone waiting for you to unlock the door so they can hurry up and get their tan on like there is in the colder months.
Not today.
The first thing L see is "Goose,1" sitting in his beat-up red pickup. Goose, a 62-year-old man, comes in at 6'5'', 280lbs, and built like a truck. He has been tanning since the place opened over 10 years ago. He is really close to one of the girls that worked there every night. She's gone, but he still comes in and thinks everyone is on the same close level that he was with her. To give everyone a better understanding of Goose he's THAT guy who stands over the counter for as long as he can, with his old sweatshirt, old sweatpants (of course with butt-crack showing), and some new lotion mixture he has concocted in his spare time. (Let's not even think about what he puts in it!) Goose's favorite pastime while at the tanning salon? Isn't it obvious?? It is telling you the same four stories: how dark he is, how often he checks his tan with the black light, what he likes to stock his fridge with, and his t-shirt collection. L knows them all by heart! (Come on now, wouldn't you if that was all you heard!)
L pulls in next to him, and gives him a friendly wave. (Just like retail, you have to smile and be everyone's BFF. Actually, it's probably more like being a hairdresser. For the two minutes while people sign in, figure out how long they want to bake for, and pick out a lotion, they often dump their day's trials and tribulations on you...like you care.) Goose points to his watch, signaling that I'm late to open.
"Really? It's not even that close to 9am I still have a good 15 minutes...what time did you get here??2 "
Goose strolls in, tells L that she isn't even tan after her fab vaca to Aruba and insists on comparing arm tans for a good 20 minutes (sorry Goose, we all don't fry up like a strip of bacon on vaca). Goose then describes today's secret lotion concoction-- a mixture of a couple low-end accelerators, one high-end bronzer, and some oil. ("You know, oil is the key ingredient here, because it doesn't dry up right away..blablabla" - just tune it out, this is why you purchase the tanning lotions so you DON'T have to think about it)
Goose goes on for another 20 minutes about how dark he is and how he likes to check his tan under the black light he has in his bedroom. You know, the one next to his California King-sized water bed. "Oh yea!" (Insert your own eye roll here.)
L tells him firmly that if he gets any darker, he is clearly not allowed to check the box next to "Caucasian," while wondering to herself, "where is everyone this morning? Pleaseeee someone come in!"
Finally, after a few more not-awkward-at-all moments of Goose pulling up his sweatshirt to show me his "black" belly, rolling up his sleeves so we can both examine how dark his scars got, because you know, they just don't tan as well as the rest of him because of the scar tissue, and inching his sweatpants down, ever-so-slightly, to expose his thigh, and ultimately reinforce that, yes, he really is dark, Goose is ready to tan. He instructs L to meet him upstairs after his lamps go off so L can see how dark he got. Because, really, right after he's done, he is just bron-ze!
(Yea, not gunna happen, there, Goose.)
Thankfully, he goes upstairs, tans, and new people come in. (New people are great when you need to be distracted. You can sit there for a minute, explain to them their different options and hang out while they fill out paperwork. Not entertaining when it's busy, but, like L said, a good excuse to not see Goose's freshly baked skin.)
Goose comes down, moisturizes and then wants to talk about his tan for another 20 minutes. (Again, why aren't more people coming in this morning??) Wanting to show me how the black light really can point out your whitest sports, he summons L into the bathroom, keeps the light off, and takes off his sweatshirt.
L attempts to pacify Goose (Ladies, we all know what to say to make the guys happy to shut them up and don't pretend like you don't!!) by saying: "Oh, yup. There you go! Just under your armpits! White as a ghost. But not the rest of you. No, no, no. You are BLAACK!3"
Unfortunately Goose replies: "Yea, oh here, I'm not modest.."
Goose then pulls down his sweatpants so L can see the white spot above his crack (pressure point that doesn't tan if you always lay down in a bed for all you non-tanners out there), but he doesn't stop there, he keeps going!
Sweatpants: off.
Ok, at least his back is to me. (Nakedness doesn't really bother L. Especially not here at a tanning salon, when you're likely to accidentally walk in on someone.4)
Goose admires himself in the mirror for a few more minutes. (Why is L still standing there? Oh yea, Goose needs the compliments and hell, no one else is coming in.)
And then he turns around.
In all his 62-year-old glory, L see the Goose peen. Tan (!) and sagging.
All L can think of at this very moment is, "Oh, my girlfriends at their grown-up jobs are going to be soo jealous when I tell them!!"
"Ok, you put your clothes back on before someone comes in!" L kids (not really.) and closes the door, walking away, and hurrying to her phone to text the masses. (B being one of the masses who P.S. laughs out loud, literally not just blogging that, everyone in her office turned and look at her like she has lost her mind).
As if that wasn't enough, Goose gets dressed, and needs to talk about how dark he is some more. L look at the clock: 11:02. (Alright, enough already. L has seen PLENTLY of Goose to last her a lifetime and then some.)
Goose has been here for over 2 hours. (Someone please get this man a job!)
L announces the time and Goose FINALLY takes a hint and gets going.. leaving the image of all 6'5'', 280 lbs, and nothing but a saggy crotch, burned into L's retinas forever (so not an exaggeration).
So worth the little salary.
1. Names have been changed to protect the innocent...errr not so innocent as you will read on!2. L usually doesn't officially "wake up" until 10:30. The morning coffee hasn't kicked in yet and she's probably just rushed around her house like the usual mad-woman trying to pack up everything for the day and later evening commute into Boston for class. Yea, she knows.."helps if you plan ahead and get things ready the night before." Falls on deaf ears. Moving on..
3. The best compliment a Goose can get: "You are BLACK!" He loves it! Hey, we all have goals, I guess.
4. Still waiting for the day when something goes wrong with the DILF's booth or bed. Don't you worry, DILF, L is right here and ready to help. You want lotion on your back? Ohh.. I'm your girl!