Sun Stories: 9 MORE Tanning Salon Horror Stories That Will Make You Say “Gross”

We’ve seen some strange things at out salon, so I decided to ask some other people that have worked in the industry for their crazy stories. Enjoy!

1. The six-pack.

“I worked at a salon for a while. I’ve had people pee and poop in the beds or trash cans. I’ve had people come out of the rooms completely naked. My favorite is the man who would drink a bottle of vodka in his truck, come in and tan, and then leave the bottle or two in the trash. There was another lady who would bring in a six-pack of beer in her purse (always). I also had a lady call the cops saying I was watching her naked because we had cameras up front for break-ins and such, not even near her bed. I had some of the craziest nights working at that salon.

 

2. The zebra stripe.

“It was the day before my junior year of high school years ago, and I decided to get a spray tan because I had bad tan lines from shorts from lifeguarding all summer. I went the day before school started and followed all the instructions for the spray-tan booth. I looked great walking out of the tanning salon. But then my mom called me and we got into a silly argument and I started to cry. It wasn’t until I got home that I realized my sobbing caused my tears to streak the spray tan down my face and neck. Needless to say, no amount of bronzer or self-tanner fixed it and the first day of my junior year in high school I walked in looking like a zebra. On the bright side, my legs turned out awesome. Now I stick to tanning beds.

 

3. The long nap.

“My favorite/weirdest memory was when a lady came in for a tan and it ended with her being escorted out in handcuffs. Our computers up front tell us how much time each bed has left and how long it’s been since the bed shut off. This woman stayed in there for an hour. We tried banging on the doors and calling her name and she wouldn’t respond. We thought she was dead so we called 911. They got the door open and woke her up. Apparently she had taken a large dose of sleeping pills before she got in the bed. Right as the police officer was leaving her room, a bag full of pills fell out of her purse. He arrested her in front of the entire salon.”

 

4. The right day to quit.

“I worked in a tanning salon that the rest of the employees and I swore was haunted. Bulbs would shatter on their own. The radios would turn on and off by themselves and the volume would even change. The employees in the building next door would tell us to stop knocking on the walls but no one was knocking. One day I was opening the salon and was all alone. I was inside the spray-tan booth getting it set up. All of a sudden I heard laughter and very loud footsteps as if someone was sprinting down the hallway. It scared the crap out of me, but when I emerged from the room and couldn’t find a single soul in the salon, I double-checked the front door and it was still locked. No one could have gotten in. I almost quit my job that day. I don’t know why any ghost would want to haunt a tanning salon, but I do know that we were not alone in that building.”

 

5. The reptile.

“I worked at a tanning salon and had to tell a customer she couldn’t put her pet lizard in the bed.

 

6. The dirty towel.

“I worked at a tanning salon one semester in college. The second week that I was there, a man in his mid-thirties pooped in his towel and handed it to me instead of throwing it in the towel bin or throwing it away before he left. However, while I stood there with his poop towel in my hand, he sat down in the waiting room and watched my reaction and what I did with it! I cried and washed my hands for 30 minutes. We bleached the bed he was in and didn’t let anyone go in it for the rest of the day.”

 

7. The storm warning.

“I went tanning late on a particularly stormy night. I got in the bed and after a couple minutes someone banged on my door and screamed, “Tornado — get out!” I got out of the bed and heard the windows vibrating so I ran my mostly naked ass down the hall to an interior room with everyone else in the salon. I was the only naked one.”

8. The double dip.

“A guy came in who I had never seen before. I set him up with a membership and he got into his bed. He was in the room for about 45 minutes, which is odd, but I didn’t think much of it because some people actually get ready after a tan. I didn’t see him leave, but when I went in to clean his bed, it was covered in shit and semen. I don’t know what the hell he was doing in there. I managed to clean it up without vomiting and immediately canceled his membership.

We would have teenagers pee in the spray booths on a regular basis. (This happens more often than you would think — lay a towel on the ground inside of spray booths before you get in). We found poop and pee in the trash several times. One time a girl double-dipped and left her very dirty tampon in the bed and her very dirty underwear hanging from the nozzle in the spray.”

9. And the reason so many people pee at the tanning salon?

“I was getting a spray tan and once I got naked to get into the machine I realized I had to pee but couldn’t put my clothes back on because the mist machine was on a timer and I would miss it. I went in the bed and tried to hold it in but I ended up peeing in the machine. I I finished the tan and came out of the machine so I could clean it up. I had lines running down my legs from the pee.”

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Instagram: @phicklephilly        Facebook: phicklephilly    twitter: @phicklephilly

Theresa – Halloween

 

Here’s another random blast from the distant past…

There was a girl at the place I worked. She claimed she had an abusive boyfriend. I encouraged her to leave him because she didn’t deserve that. She says she left him and needs someone to talk to. We go out a few times. We start seriously dating. We have a stupid five month anniversary date planned for Halloween.

She calls and says she can’t make it on account of work and will be too tired afterwards. The next day she calls me over to talk. (That’s never good) When I get there she informs me that she wasn’t at work she was fucking her ex all day and they’re getting back together. We get into a shouting match. She’s not responsible; Bullshit. They have history; Yeah, he hit her. He never really hit her; Lying snake. Why am I so mad; Because she’s a trollop. And so on. I left (Yes, in the heat of the moment I wanted to hit her. (Not really!) That’s why I left. Should I be applauded for that? No, it’s just something that happened. I shouldn’t have ever admitted to feeling anything. I’m sorry.) and she spent the day begging me to come back. I refused to speak to her because I was angry and confused and needed some space.

Naturally when she can’t reach me she calls into work and claims I sexually assaulted her. I don’t know this, go to work, and get taken aside. The company is concerned about the allegations and wants to call the cops. I swear it was an ongoing relationship, completely consensual, and they didn’t need to call the cops. They point out we’re still both employees and the company can’t have us both working there if it is true. There are liabilities to consider and the police will sort everything out. I’ll just sit in jail for a couple of days while they do that. So, I offer to quit in exchange for them not calling the police as I really didn’t want to go to jail. I was in an independent contractor position. I didn’t even really work for them. The company didn’t need to get involved. This is a private issue. They agree and let me go under the condition that if they ever see me again they’re calling the cops on me for harassing her. I go home, crawl into bed and pray for death.

A little less than a week later she emails to tell me her boyfriend told her she couldn’t see me so she wants to see me to make sure I’m okay. I explain that I’m not okay because she is a lying cheating whore who ruined my life and I wish all the evil in the world upon her (Yes, including that her boyfriend would actually beat her to death. It’s shocking I know but I liked her less now than before and was still hurt so I said mean things to her. I’m literally Hitler and Satan’s bastard child right?) and want nothing to do with her. She claims nothing that happened was her fault, he made her say I raped her, and the beatings have gotten worse. I din’t respond.

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish everyday.

Instagram: @phicklephilly                          Facebook: phicklephilly

Itchy and Snatchy

I’ve had my fair share of bad dates and am so glad to be happy in a relationship for the moment but there is always a story to tell.

I talked to her a few times and got a general idea of who she was and things she liked so we agreed to go out. I picked her up and she asked me to take her to Target to get a baby shower gift.

Hmmm… odd request but okay. The entire time I’m in Target with her she’s complimenting my looks. Now I know I’m not a bad-looking dude but this girl was making me out to be Tom Cruise or something. The red flags start waving.

We leave and go to dinner. A steak house. We sit and chit-chat. She says she’s starving. So the server comes and takes our order. She orders a burger.

I’m like, hey you can order a steak, get whatever you want.

She says nope I want a burger. Okay. No biggie. I order my steak and we wait.

Conversation was mild and flowing. No real red flags until dinner came. She looks at my steak and says, oh wow I should have ordered a steak that looks so good.

Hmmm… ok I told you that, but whatever. I take a bite and she won’t touch her burger. It just sits there for a few minutes.

Here’s where things get weird. She starts laughing hysterically and points behind me and says look at that guy over there. Naturally I turn around and see nothing. I turn back and she has bare hand grabbed my steak and has it in her mouth taking a large bite out of it. She tosses is back on my plate and licks her fingers. I’m pretty shocked at this point and ready for dinner to be over. You’d think that’s not too crazy.

Oh, it gets worse.

So I’m done with the steak. She proceeds to inhale her burger. She,s a very petite girl so I’m amazed. Then she starts scratching herself. Like she’s itching. She’s scratching between her legs and it’s getting more vigorous.

I ask if she’s okay, and she says she thinks she’s got a yeast infection. She said it pretty loud and if people didn’t turn their heads at the steak part they are now and it gets quiet. She is scratching really hard now. I’m signaling the waiter for the check.

She asks if I can take her to the store for some Vagisil. At this point I’m ready for some candid cameras to come out and tell me I’m Punk’d.

I pay quickly and we get in my car.

I drive back towards her place and she says she’s not ready to go home but needs to stop and get some Vagisil. I pull into a grocery store in front of her apartment and park. She gets out and looks back and asks if I’m coming in too. I say no and will wait in the car. As soon as she walks in I left.

She called me 4 hours later asking where I went. Never talked to her again.

She’s dubbed “crazy steak girl.”

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Tales of Rock – Nikki Sixx Had A Lethal Overdose

“Motley Crue: the band responsible for literally every stereotype about hair metal that you know.”

Judging by the above, the most dangerous profession in the 1980s — aside from pulling double shifts at Chernobyl — was being a rock star. After all, there’s Guns N’ Roses, Van Halen, Aerosmith, and, last but not least, Motley Crue: the band responsible for literally every stereotype about hair metal that you know.

In 1987, while touring with Guns N’ Roses, Motley Crue bassist Nikki Sixx teamed up with Slash to unwind by shooting some heroin, presumably because Game Gear hadn’t been invented yet. Unfortunately, because opiate fans aren’t renowned for their measuring skills, Nikki ended up overdosing and dying in Slash’s shower. All things considered, this is the closest thing to a hero’s death that Nikki Sixx could hope for.

Except, as the world would come to learn, Nikki Sixx cannot be destroyed by heroin. He was revived after two minutes of clinical death by two shots of adrenaline stabbed directly into his fucking heart. Ordinarily, this would be followed by a long period of bed rest and some self-reflection. For Nikki Sixx, this meant escaping his ambulance, hitchhiking back home, and shooting up more heroin. The incident resulted in Motley Crue’s Grammy-nominated song “Kickstart My Heart” so … win-win, we guess?

 

Share this post to be entered to win a $50 gift card to your favorite store!

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish Monday through Friday at 8am EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Lenore – Nowhere To Go But Up

“She had started to pound $10 cocktails like she was going off to war.”

I was coming off my break up with Michelle, (See: Michelle – 2007 to Present – A Brand New Day) We remained friends, but I figured I should get back out there. I had little knowledge on how online dating worked. I met a cute enough girl online (OK Cupid) – looks a little wild, perfect for where I am in my life, and we decide to meet.
I go all out for this first date. We’re going to my favorite “upscale” taco place and a movie after that I was excited to see. She called me about 10 minutes late and she’s pissed. She couldn’t find parking and now she couldn’t find the place. I excuse myself from the table, step outside, and try to look for her. I don’t see this girl anywhere, but I suddenly hear my name being called. I look over, and the girl who I thought was a slinky girl with pink hair looked almost nothing like her photos.
When we sit down inside the restaurant, she tells me the story. She’s gained about 45lbs…since the baby (which she also neglected to tell me about) and had recently dyed her hair moss-green, mostly by accident. I honestly wasn’t even sure that she was the same person, but she told me she was in beauty school and mixed something up. I don’t remember the exact details, because I stopped being able to pay attention to her story. Why? Because she had started to pound $10 cocktails like she was going off to war.

Uh oh, bad sign.
She ended up ordering the most expensive thing on the menu, drinking $50 in about 5 minutes, and started to get whiny and cranky. What would a normal guy have done? Maybe split the tab and call it a night. Me? Nope. I keep thinking, “Maybe she’s just nervous. Obviously, she’s been through a lot and is a bit of a mess.”
So, the idiot that I am, I take her to the movie. The movie has assigned seating, which lands us in the back of this theater. When we go to sit down, her drunk ass falls over, much to the chagrin of a father and his pre-teen daughter who are sitting in the seats next to us. This girl is in and out of consciousness most of the movie. It was a great movie, but when she was conscious, she complained throughout it – loudly and childishly.

The worst part of the movie, though, is when she got horny and decided to start trying to give me a hand job in the movie theater. Normally, this would be a kind of sexy proposition, but not when you’re sitting right next to a pretty buff-looking, angry father and his young daughter. I had to pull her hand away maybe 5 times as this guy shot me looks of “I’m about to fucking kill you” before I finally took her out of the theater. I felt so bad that I bought the dad/daughter a gift card for the theater and wrote a quick apology before walking miss #greenhairdontcare outside.
It only gets worse from here, sadly. She ends up having a fucking meltdown on one of benches outside the theater. She’s crying and talking about killing herself for about 20 minutes. She’s calling herself fat and ugly, saying that I’m a pig and an asshole for taking her out, and asks me if I’ll fuck her in her car loudly and repeatedly (she asks loudly and repeatedly, not for loud, repetitive sex). I’m getting glares and the cops come over twice to make sure I’m not hurting her.
At some point, I just gave up. I called a cab, which she refused to get in. She hopped in her car, drunk as hell, and sped off. I ended up spending over $200 for this night. By the end of this thing, I was ready to swear off dating entirely, especially after the next 3 days of her texting me depressing shit and pics of her lady parts out of nowhere. But, in the end, I had nowhere to go but up. Dating got a lot better after that.

Sort of.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish Monday through Friday at 8am EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly             Facebook: phicklephilly

Adalyn – Crazy Is As Crazy Does

“I’m in my date’s bedroom, she’s lying on her bed, drugged and intoxicated, she takes off her top (now topless), grabs my neck and starts kissing me. Her mom, who is standing there, leaves the room to give me some privacy to do what can only be considered date rape.”

I’ve been using Tinder for over a year or so now, and I’ve always been pretty lucky. However, this incident was a different story.

Flashback a day earlier, we matched on tinder. I’m chatting with hot Adalyn. Raven hair, tan skin, and dark eyes. From her pics, I can see she has a smokin’ body. She’s definitely on the right side of twenty-five.

I suggested we skip the long chats and go for a drink, she suggested we chat on the phone first. We did for an hour and it was nice. Some laughs, some flirting and we agreed to spend the next morning in the park. We met, everything is going great and all signs are saying we’ll end up having crazy sex very soon. Left the park, had lunch and then agreed to go back to my place. She said she needed to pass by her place to change and get some stuff. No problem.

Things were moving quickly.

She introduced me to her mom, her dog, her cat and some neighbors. Seemed like she was getting a little too cozy for a tinder date. Then she said: “change of plans. My mom is going to spend the night at my brother’s place. Would you mind spending the night here instead?” I thought, why not? I’m getting lucky so I don’t care. She started preparing dinner and I started drinking. She started pounding drinks as well. I was feeling pretty good, but I could see she was already getting pretty banged up. Turns out her mom is going nowhere, and I had too much to drink. So in my drunken mind I decide to stay with them for the night.

That’s when things started to get crazy. The dinner table had shrimp and oysters with bacon (which I hate). So I started eating the shrimp, when my date offered some oysters. I politely declined and said I was happy with the shrimp. She insisted so much it got awkward, so I took it. She asked me if I liked it, I smiled and said nothing. She started getting angry, and yelled at me that I should be more direct and speak up. I told her I didn’t like it. It might be good but it’s not for me. She started yelling at me and demanding an explanation why I don’t like it.

That’s when her mom jumped in and tried to defuse the situation. To my surprise, Adalyn grabbed the shrimp plate and threw it across the room straight into the wall. Then she stormed away into her room.

That’s when her mom explained to me that Adalyn had been in and out of rehab because of depression and alcohol abuse. She also had two suicide attempts, and that she was on medication. She was not supposed to have any alcohol.

Now I’m feeling really sorry for her.

After awhile, she came out of her room, laughing as if nothing happened, and brought out some dessert and more champagne. Things seemed to be cool now. I tried to relax. But then, quite suddenly, she stood up and challenged me to a fight. She started throwing punches at my chest and stomach and then to my face. I was blocking or slipping all the punches and asking her to stop. Then she got really vicious, and started adding kicks to her attack. I grabbed her arms, put my weight on her, and took her to the ground. She totally collapsed and lay there unconscious.

I carried this poor deranged thing to her bed. When she opened her eyes, she smiled and then all of a sudden took her off her top, (now topless) grabbed my neck, and started kissing me. Her mom, who was still standing there, left the room to give me privacy to do what could only be considered date rape. (which I obviously didn’t do) I pushed her away, and started walking backwards out of the room, when she gave me a final kick to the stomach goodbye.

I ran out of the house and down the street. I called an UBER and was on my way back to Rittenhouse.

Not crazy enough? I woke up the next morning to a few missed calls from my date.   A couple of voicemails with a casual apology, and a couple of ideas for our second date.

What?

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish Monday through Friday at 8am EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly          Facebook: phicklephilly