I hang with a lot of folks who have tattoos, men and women, and I don’t have any. At least I didn’t. I realized it was time to join the cool kids and get some ink!
I was tired of being the one in the crowd without at least something to show off on my skin, an anchor on my shoulder, or a full sleeve on my arm, or at least a bracelet tattoo. I had to remedy that and I took it upon myself to do so without prolonging the wait.
I went to my neighborhood tattoo parlor, and there are plenty, so I just went with the one closest that seemed clean and friendly. I admit, I was intimidated by the tattoo kit at first, and I had a feeling they were just using low quality tattoo needles, but I stuck with the plan and found the most experienced artist and told him I wanted an intimidating animal of sorts tattooed across my back.
Large and scary, fangs ideally, poised and ready for the kill. I left it to him to come up with the design, I wanted to be surprised by the eventual picture that would forever change the make-up of my back, and my standing on my social circle.
I wish he hadn’t used a neighing giraffe as the intimidating animal, but to be honest, it’s probably better than a typical lion or hippopotamus. Or orangutan. I sent a picture of the tattoo to my friend who works at thelashop.com and he said he loved it and would try to make it appear on the homepage. I don’t think he ever did, and I don’t mind,
I’m just happy to be able to hang with my crowd now and stand at least as an equal. I wish having a tattoo didn’t matter so much for social standing, but it does, and now when I see someone without one, I can’t help but look down on them, but with one tear of compassion rolling down my cheek.
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