So the night before I was due to go out, I tanned and dyed my hair pink, getting both all over my crisp white bathroom, much to my man's displeasure as he found in the morning as he scoured the bath to remove all remnants of what can only be described as his own living hell.
Now, I think the most important thing when tanning, is to have a thorough shower in the morning, make sure you get into all of those bronzed nooks and crannies, and when washing your hair, make sure you get all the dye out, unlike me.
So, off I went nice and early to one of my four spin classes a week (death), got changed, went to the back of the class as I was first in, adjusted my bike etc, and one of the more annoying female personal trainers waded through the door, trying to say that the class was cancelled, but if enough people turned up she would take it. 'JOY,' I thought in the most sarcastic tone, I've just about managed to do this class properly with the normal instructor and now this patronising weasel was going to take it.
The only way to describe her is as a complete jobsworth slave driver. Not only did she know there were people in the class that were brand new to the class, (not me, hurrah!) she knew that there were people in the class that had some kind of mild injury, but alas, she insisted on trying to kill us.
Throughout the lesson she was staring at me, I felt persecuted, and differently to how I did the first time I tried spinning. This woman was looking at me like I was mad, and when you're pouring with sweat and completely out of breath, thats the last thing you want, I decided to ignore her and put it down to her glasses being the wrong prescription for a dark room with strobe lights.
There was a slightly overweight couple in front of me that were the newbies, the poor woman was so eager to try it and might as well have gone in blind folded. Before the class started, as she mounted her bike, she looked back to me for reassurance, and I replied with a smile, I knew this would be horrific for her, about ten minutes into the lesson she looked back at me once again to suggest impending death on her behalf, but ended up double taking at me, I just thought she was having some kind of dehydrated seizure. Within 5 minutes she had bolted and gone to the changing room, I thought nothing else of it.
So at the end of this lesson, I felt invigorated, and quite relieved that I'd made it through yet another 45 minutes of hell, and also made my way to the changing room. Within it, I found the new lady and tried to assure her with the classic lines of 'It's ok, it gets easier,' and 'you did so well for your first go.'
She replied with a polite thank you and then proceeded to point out that not only had my hair dye dripped down my forehead, my face and my body, but my fake tan had seemed into my t shirt making me look a bit like I'd had alcohol poisoning through cherry lambrini down myself.
I hadn't brought a change of clothes and had to walk home, trying desperately to mask my shame, if there was such a thing as, ' the morning after but the morning before,' this was it.
The moral of this story, is that if you're trying to be a sexy lady, don't rush showers. Follow Me On Instagram! / Follow Me On Bloglovin! / Follow Me On Twitter!
Alexandra Loves x