At the end of Part I, myself and Dan the tattoo artist were having a little chat about my interests in an effort to gain inspiration for my tattoo design.
We settle on a design that captures the essence of my religion. We collaborate on the content and color scheme. Both of us are convicted in our opinions. However, like any successful partnership, we are able to respect each other's point of view and strike an accord. He dons his gloves, squirts the ink into little plastic cups and clicks on the machine. A steady whirring sound fills the room. "Ready"? he asks, I acquiesce and stare wide eyed at the needle making contact with my skin.
I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS....GETTING A TATTOO FUCKING HURTS! This theory that over time you get numb from the pain is completely false.
If I had been asked to set my "mood stamp" right at that moment I would have set it to tolerant. (is there even a face for tolerant?) Alas, I resign myself to the agony and desperately focus my attention on my surroundings. If you are considering getting inked, I definitely suggest that you bring a friend. It was the perfect distraction. Perhaps I was too distracted. I made it a point to glance over every once in a while to check on Dan's progress. It was then that I noticed the sun rays that we discussed didn't look anything like sun rays. They looked more jagged, like the smile of a jack o' lantern. Eeek! I promptly asked him to re-shape them to my liking and he obliges. "That looks better" he says. It has been over two hours that I have been sitting in the chair. We exchange a couple of more words and decide that we're finished for the evening. It is almost 11:30. Dan offers to do the remainder of the shading for free at a later date.
At the register, my friend and I are discussing my new tattoo with another tattoo artist and the shop assistant. "She got a Dan original" my friend says. I defiantly retort "I challenge anyone to say they have a tattoo like mine" and leave the shop.
About 30 min later, I arrive home. I peal the bandage off and see my tattoo. Suddenly I'm overwhelmed with this intense feeling of dread. I start to panic. "I've made a big mistake, I'm so ashamed, "What have I done"?! I say over and over again. I race to the phone and call my best friend for some much needed consoling. Realizing that I am an emotional wreck, I finally decide it would be in my best interest to try to get some sleep. I toss and turn all night, tormented by memories of the previous evening.
I wake in a state of shock. I shuffle to the computer and enter "laser removal" in the search field. I surf the internet for about an hour. I'm so disgusted, I don't even want to care for my tattoo. I go into the bathroom and begrudgingly apply the A&D ointment. I'm completely obsessed with the situation and I am miserable. I turn on the tv and flick through the channels. I just want to forget about everything that happened. I decide it's best just not to think about it anymore. There's nothing I can do for the time being so I just have to live with it. Maybe it will grow on me. By Sunday, I'm already feeling better. I chalk it up to a severe case of "tattoo shock".
On Wednesday evening I returned to the shop to have the finishing touches done to my tattoo. The colors are magnificent and vibrant. Dan is extremely talented. He did an amazing job. Now when I gaze at it, I gasp in excitement. That's the way it should be. After all the drama, I am really proud of it. I can't wait to show it off to the world.
P.S. Since my tattoo was designed specifically for me and to avoid tattoo piracy, I will not be posting a photo of my tattoo.
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