Golden Tan...

I opened the door and walked into Golden Tan. I go there about once a week, you know, to make myself pretty. Or prettier. As if that's even possible. Or possiblye. But I digress…

So, I walk in there, and have an appointment for my normal bed. And the following exchange happens, which has never happened before, but might again…

(sidenote: I have no idea what this girls name was, probably Bambi, or Candi with a heart dotting the eye, or Fatina, or some other stripper name. For the purposes of this story, I will simply call her Puke…)

Puke: Hello and welcome to Golden Tan.
Brent: Hi, my name is Brent Nelson and I have a 3:40 appointment.
Puke: On which bed?
Brent: The Viper bed.
Puke: And did you bring your tanning lotion?
Brent: Umm…I don't use "tanning lotion".
Puke: And you find the bed working for you?
Brent: Yeah…
Puke: Huh…that's weird?
Brent: WTF? How's that "weird"? You offer a product…called a tanning bed…and I use it…to tan. If it doesn't work without your magically delicious "tanning lotion", maybe you should think about putting them together as a package that you must get.
Puke: But some…
Brent: Can I complete a paragraph without the annoying whine of your voice interrupting me?
Puke: Buh…
Brent: Maybe learn a little something from the automotive industry. You know, they never sell you a car, and then when you come to pick it up, ask you if you brought your engine with you. No, the good people at GM decided that if it doesn't work without a component of it, you should probably have the component priced in!! You think?!? Huh?!? Does that make sense to you, Bambi??
Puke: My name is Cassandra?
Brent: Like I give a butt what kind of stripper name you have?
Puke: Your bed is ready, sir.
Brent: Oh, thanks.
Puke: So, did you want some tanning lotion?
Brent: (jumps over the counter and starts pummeling Puke with a beeker-bocker)