Ever since I had a Basal Cell Carcinoma scare a while back, my sorry ass has stayed out of the sun. We are talking a complete aversion to any sort of daylight hitting any part of my body for any extended period of time. I religiously wear sunscreen and I invested in a giant, oversized floppy-hat from Anne Taylor. People used to ask … “Who is that behind those Foster Grants?” Instead, they now ask, “Who’s the albino freak wearing that mutant sun bonnet?!”

Those comments really don’t phase me. What does, however, phase me is being pasty white. All. The. Time. I used to bronze up nicely in my formative younger years and I looked good. I looked ALIVE! Now though I’m so pale I’m practically translucent. Trust me, it’s hard to be vain … or shallow … or narcissistic when you can see your inner organs through your skin.

Thus, it’s no wonder I’ve discovered the fine art of spray tanning. For those of you NOT in the glow … er, know … it goes a little something like this: You stand nekkid in front of some chick who waves a huge airbrush wand around and literally sprays pigment on you. And it rocks.

I swear by it.

Now thanks to the wonders of Andrea Irish and her TanFastic Mobile Spray Tan Van … I am instantly a Bronze God in only thirty minutes. Best of all, I look like Malibu Ken for about a week. It’s like a magic wand for ghosts. And before you even ask … yes, it looks natural and, no, I do not resemble a Cheese Doodle.

Poor Andrea always has her work cut out for her. If she spray paints certain areas with more shading – it gives the appearance that I have incredibly defined muscles. Yes, Virginia … there is a Santa Claus … and its name is TanFastic. With a few painstaking waves of the airbrush, Andrea can give me a faux biceps, faux abs, and faux delts. I joked she needs to give me one of those stickers … objects in mirror may be larger than they appear.

Last week, I actually sang her a song … sung to the tune of “Time In A Bottle” by Jim Croce.

“If I could have tan in a bottle … it’s something that I’d like to use. I‘d spray and I’d spray … all my whiteness away … and now I look better than you.”

Oddly – Andrea has recently raised her prices. And, oddly, she only raised them on me. Doesn’t matter – she still leaves me wearing a smile on my face. Good thing – because when she’s spraying me – that’s ALL I’m wearing. Come on … if I’m gonna pay $50 for this color, I certainly don’t want any tan lines, y’all.