"Pale and Critical"

Me in the Dominican Republic

About a year ago I was in the Dominican Republic with Jen and Victoria and it was like the fourth day that we were there and I was minding my own business walking by the pool and some random red faced Canadian guy who fat and burned to a crisp yelled out from his lounge chair "Do you have a skin condition?" For a moment I was horrified that he was referring to my SLIGHT dry scalp problem (which I'm WORKING ON), but my hair was under a hat. I asked him what the hell he was talking about, and he said I looked like I was on my "death bed" or had "painted whiteout" all over myself. It didn't matter that he looked like a sunburned manatee or that the resort was full of topless old hags smoking on the beach in wheelchairs, because the most alarming thing on the beach was my extreme paleness. Jen and Victoria can tell you the ridiculous amount of people at the resort who "helpfully" suggested to me that I might want to start sitting in the sun or try putting down the 50 SPF because while saggy singed teats or ten sets of asses on a single person is perfectly acceptable, you have to draw the line somewhere and frankly pallor is crossing it.

Unbeknowst to me, paleness went out of fashion approximately 100 years ago and these days it's cool to go to tanning salons and sit outside for hours hoping to look like you soaked in a vat of Nestea for 10 days so you can braggg to your friends that you went on vacation without the hassle of having to get your hair beaded. Too bad that in 10 years all these tan people are going to look like leather couches and will be wearing bandaids on their faces and my shit is still going to be in high gear because paleness rules and I have a strong feeling it will be making a comeback very soon. My friend Grant once called me "pale and critical" and if this is not the highest compliment ever given I don't know what is.