With my birthday night out this evening, I decided to treat myself to a spray tan. If only that were the end of the story. But no this is a sorry tale of gross incompetence though I’m still not sure where the ultimate blame must lie. Could it be that my normally blue-hued blotchy skin doth repel a tan both from that steaming orb in the sky AND the bottle? To be fair I’m pretty sure I could have achieved a more even result with a wet finger and an Oxo cube. Am I to summise that my twenty quid visit to a salon where I was openly judged by a wide-eyed model of perfection was a horrible waste of time and money? That thirty minutes I spent standing under a self-esteem obliterating halogen bulb nearly naked being fine spray basted a pointless exercise? Glancing down at my tie-dyed effect 46 year old body confirms it was…fuck it low lighting and 4 gins and I’ll be hot to trot once more!!!

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