Fake Bake and a Slurpee

Years ago, I used to stop for gas and snacks at a convenience store in a rough neighborhood. It had been there a while and had a rough and declining customer base. Not somewhere you would want to spend time after dark.

Recently, I've had reason to shop there again. So, I pulled in for some bottled water and snacks and stuff. And, I was surprised to find that the parking lot was full at 10:30 at night.

Strange, I thought as I got out of my car. There was a cute young girl sitting in the car next to me. Idling her car. Looking at the store impatiently. Strange.

Then there was the cute girl, and her bored looking guy, sitting on the curb outside of the store. Killing time.

Then there was the 4 cute girls milling around the store drinking Slurpees. Looking like they had nowhere to go.

Then there was the strange hum and the summery smell back by the wall of beverage refrigerators. Strange.

Then there was the superhot blonde in a tank top and low cut jeans standing outside of a row of doors near the back of the store. Tapping her feet impatiently.

Why all the cute girls in the store this late at night?

And what were those doors that didn't use to be there?

Ah. Now I see the signs. Tanning beds. The rough little struggling convenience store had diversified, and seemed to be thriving.

The place was overrun with nubile young ladies wishing to be free of the pasty-whiteness that afflicts the rest of us midwesterners in late spring. Desperately desiring the fake bake.

What about you? Anyone a partaker of the fake bake?

Not me. But, the voyeur in me knows that I may need some gas and a slurpee later tonight.