Tanning Booth

Being a red head means that you probably have fair skin, at least that was true in my case. My family has teased me about my pale complexion since I was a toddler. My skin was so white, it reminded my dad of a ghost’s skin, specifically Casper the ghost. So, that became my new nickname, Casper.

When I was a little kid, 5 or 6 years old, I had to go with my parents wherever they went, and a place they went a lot was the tanning salon. They explained what a tanning booth is, and how it makes their skin darker. After I understood what a tanning booth did, I was upset, angry even that they get to change their skin and be tan, but I had to be pale and called “Casper”. So, me being the independent kid I was, decided to take matters into my own hands.

In the bathrooms in my house we have red lights along with the normal lights. I now know that those are heat lamps, but as a 5-year-old, their purpose was up to my imagination. I figured that the red light in the bathroom worked the same way the lights in the tanning booths did, meaning it would tan me like a booth would. So, that’s exactly what I used it for. I laid a towel down on the cold floor, got undressed, turned the heat lamp on, and laid down and waited. I thought I was so smart. I was no longer going to be called Casper after I got a nice tan from the light. But as I was laying there, my dad walked in. He saw me laying on the ground naked and asked, “What are you doing A—–?” and I plainly said, “Tanning.” He lost it. While laughing almost uncontrollably, he ran out into the foyer to tell my mom what he had just witnessed. Soon the rest of my family had been told what I did, and never let it go.

Whenever my dad saw a chance to bring it into a conversation, he did. He still brings it up to this day, more than 10 years later. From all of that, I didn’t lose the nickname Casper, nor did I get a tan from the heat lamp. But a lesson was learned that I’ll never forget, always lock the bathroom door.

Photo on Foter.com