Julie with a B

Friday, January 14, 2005
 
The tattoo
Last summer life was looking pretty boring. I didn’t have any vacation time yet. My friends were off biking, camping, backpacking, sea kayaking, and riding the trails in Montana. Dang. Life is dull. I walked down to the local mini-mart for whipped cream. The guy clerking there is tall, bald, covered in tattoos, never blinks, and speaks English. Seems a little reptilian, so I figure he’s really an alien and no one has noticed. He does have some cool tattoos. I asked him where he got his tattoos and he named a place downtown. I drew a little leafy, viney sort of thing and stopped at the tattoo place on my lunch hour. I stood, in my navy blue suit, white blouse, and heels, in the waiting room looking at examples of tattoos. Ah, no dragons, thanks. A guy covered in tattoos (of course) walked out and looked at me, unblinking. Another alien. I said, “Uh, I’d like to get a tattoo on my ankle. Can you do this?” He glanced down at my drawing and said, “Sure”. Silence. “Uh, when would you have time?” Nothing. “Say Friday at lunch time?” He said, “Sure”.
I told one my friends what I was going to do. He told me, “it’s gonna hurt you know. I’ll go with you.”
Friday rolls around and by that time, I’d mentioned my little adventure to a couple other people. At noon, I walked in, and there in the waiting room, stood my sister, her daughter, and four other friends, all there to watch me cringe under the needle. The tattoo guy walked out and took us into a very tiny room. He did a great job under pressure, all those people watching; those aliens, nerves of steel. I, of course, can tell you that it hurts like…. Heck. Really. But with all my supporters standing there, I was not going to whimper. No thank you! My friend said, “Well, mine hurt more than that!”
Probably not.

- posted by JulieB @ 4:08 PM
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