i am sorry it has taken me so long to tell the story that i hinted about. life has been a bit insane. work is overwhelming, my dog has been missing for 4 days and i am really sad about that, my friend tommy has been in town (really thankful to get to hang with him), i have a jewish/christian wedding, and on top of that i have a festival to work at this weekend... yet life is really good. trust me on that. well, don't trust me, but i shouldn't complain..
ok.. now the story.
while at pigeon forge i got a tattoo. not very big, but big enough to make me happy and angie uncomfortable.
after many hours of debating, i decided to go with my hebrew tattoo. i have a few favorite songs that talk about waiting for a rescue and needing to be rescued. so, i got rescue on my left wrist. i am going to try my hardest to set up the scene for you.
southern quick draw: what can i do for you?
me: i would like a tattoo.
sq: where?
me: my wrist.
sq: of what?
me: a hebrew word.
sq:have you been drinking?
me: no.
it takes a few minutes for us to get started and actually to find away to get a picture of my tattoo, but after 20 minutes we get it.
paul and chris are patiently waiting for me.
i walk up these stairs and see a woman getting elvis tattooed on her right breast bone. a cold shiver runs up my spin.
the artist looks at me and pats the seat. my mind flashes back to the first haircut. i was nervous, but ready to get rid of my blonde curls that made me look like a girl.
so i sit down and this tattooed covered man begins to shave my arm. he doesn't wet the razor, but he does put alcohol on after he shaves me. then he puts the design on my wrist and i start to get nervous.
i hear all of the voices from my friends who have tattoos.
"it hurts."
"it's annoying"
"i cried!"
"i wish i would have never got this."
i felt sweat run down my face. he turns on the tattoo gun and he sticks it in my flesh. it hurts a little, but not that bad. i actually watch him carving into my flesh. i begin to enjoy it. then he moves closer to get a better look. his left pec is resting in my hand. i try to ignore the fact that i am cupping him. then he moves to the middle of my wrist. he hits a nerve. my thumb starts twitching. i am rubbing his nipple. i can't stop. i look at him and tell him i am sorry. he doesn't care.
"it's all right."
an awkward moment, but it soon past. within 10 minutes he was finished. i had my first tattoo.
now i have to put lotion on it every 2 hours and wash it with hot water every 5 hours, but i have it. angie finally gave me what she promised 2 years ago.
time for me to head home and get ready for the wedding.
1 comment:
ok so about peed my pants. i can honestly say my tattoo experience was nothing like that. although I dodged a bullet i was going to get a small flower near my chest until a dear friend informed me that the artist would actually have to hold my boob for the entire time. which if he looked like brad pitt I may have gone ahead and suffered through it, but we all know most tattoo guys look like zz top. so I decided on a pooh bear on my ankle instead. sorry nobody warned you about the akward tattoo moments
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