Thursday, May 31, 2012

Be Careful What You Wish For

I couldn't believe it: The cast of billionaires on ABC's "Shark Tank" all declined to invest in Instant Lifts, these nifty clear adhesives designed to lift sagging arms and thighs and smooth cellulite.  Were they out of their collective mind?  Didn't they realize how many millions of women would give anything to lift and smooth without going under the knife?  And for a fraction of the cost!  These money bags obviously didn't see dollar signs, but I saw taut, youthful arms just in time for all those capped T-shirts and summer blouses.

The day my Instant Arm Lifts arrived, I dashed into the bathroom, pulled off my sweatshirt, and quickly read the instructions.  I placed one hand behind the Lift and slowly peeled the backing off of one half of the Instant Arm.  Oops.  The adhesive stuck to itself and rendered a section more wrinkled than the arm I was trying to smooth.  One down.  Determined, I pulled out a second Lift, peeled off half of the backing, and tried to attach it to the back, underneath side of my arm about half way under my arm pit.  This time, the wind from the open bathroom window blew just strong enough to again force the adhesive to stick to itself.  I was getting nowhere fast.  I opened a third Instant Lift and somehow managed to get it into place and stuck to the underside of my arm.  I removed the second half of the backing and pulled the flabby area of my arm up and toward my shoulder, attaching the second half of the Lift over my shoulder.  But when I pulled on a T-shirt, some of the clear adhesive was sticking out, making me look like an escapee from outpatient surgery.

Frustrated and angry, I sent off an email to the owner of the company, the woman who had made all of this look so fast and easy on TV.  An assistant (probably the only one) emailed me back to say that they would be happy to send me another batch of Instant Lifts and that the owner herself would be happy to give me a personal demonstration.  Why not?  A new mailer full of lifts would be useless if I couldn't attach them correctly, if at all.

The owner and I used Skype and sat in front of our computers, each of us with a new Instant Arm Lift in hand.  She looked so much thinner than she did on "Shark Tank."  I wanted to congratulate her on losing weight but decided instead to focus on her instructions.  I followed her lead and somehow managed to make the thing work.  I thanked her profusely and returned to the bathroom mirror where I proceeded to ruin another two of the contraptions before giving up.  A real arm lift done by a reputable surgeon would set me back somewhere between $6000 and $10,000.  For a brief moment, I considered the possibility but came to my senses when  I realized I could redo my bathroom instead of my arms.

I guess I should have known.  I should have trusted the Sharks.  They knew a bad product when they saw one when all I saw was an easy way to tighten my arms.  So, now it's back to the weights.

Thursday, May 10, 2012


I've changed the name of my blog AGAIN to  Sorry about the confusion.