For a long time I knew what I wanted to get done but I just kept putting it off; the biggest reason probably being I was scared of the pain (don't laugh at me just because I am a pussy). But finally I just decided to suck it up and get it done.
Since I decided last minute to do it I didn't have an appointment anywhere. I first went to 11th Street Electric Gallery and asked the rude, grungy, and smelly guy, who was missing quite a few teeth, at the front desk if there was any chance I could get inked up that day. After a few seconds of looking me up and down and no doubt judging my clean cut, tattoo-less look he said "What are you gonna' have done?" So I handed him the sloppy sketch I had done before leaving the house. He glanced at it and said "No way we can do that on a walk-in. Make an appointment, the soonest I can get you in is Monday."
I thought about making an appointment for a moment and then came to the realization that there was no guarantee I wouldn't chicken out before Monday. I had put this off for almost two years because I'm a little girl when it comes to needles, the chances of me not psyching myself out before my appointment were probably slim to none. So I abruptly walked out of the shop.
The next stop was Lost Art Tattoo on about State and 4th. The people here were much more friendly and accommodating. The girl at the front told me that one of the owners, Dean, had a couple cancellations that day and that if I came back in an hour or so he would do it. So I drove home, made Ashley cancel the plans she previously made with her sister and drove us both back to Lost Art just in time to wait for an hour and a half for Dean to finish tattooing someone else.
To say that I was nervous would be the understatement of the century. The whole time we were there waiting my arms and legs shook uncontrollably. I stood up, I sat down, I paced the length of the waiting area repeatedly, I even went outside in the freezing cold a few times. Nothing could settle my nerves. My internal dialog was not helping the matter, either: "How bad is it going to hurt?", "I hope I don't make him stop halfway through because its so painful", "Will everyone here make fun of me if I cry?", "Maybe I should just walk out now", etc., etc.
Finally he came to the waiting area and told me it was time. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit..." I thought.
The area in which they actually do the tattooing is one big room; there aren't individual studios or anything. This means there is no privacy which means any noises, faces or movements I might make while a needle is cutting into three layers of my skin will be witnessed by every single person in that room. Not only was I intimidated but my state of mind went from nervous to almost a full blown anxiety attack.
Dean shaved all the fuzz off the upper part of my arm, stuck on the blue stencil ink and loaded up the electric needle. When he turned it on I just about crushed Ashley's hand with how hard I squeezed it. Then he started...
It sucked...really bad. Its a really weird pain and some areas hurt worse than others. The closer he got to my shoulder the harder I gritted my teeth.
When he was less than half way done with the initial outline I started to feel light headed. I lost all the color in my face and I started to sweat profusely. I was seconds away from losing consciousness when he stopped and had the front desk girl get me some water. I downed about three cups and started to feel a little better. When I was all the way back to normal he told me that people pass out all the time right at the beginning. He said the girl who he tattooed before me went out when he turned on the needle, before he even touched her with it. He has seen people go out when he put on the stencil. That made me feel a lot better and much less embarrassed.
About forty-five minutes into it, some kid who couldn't have been more than 19 or 20 years old sat down facing me on the other side of the room. He was getting a sun or a Chinese symbol or a tribal sign or some stupid, generic, trendy thing that he will regret in ten years. Anyway, less than ten minutes into his tattoo he started to get pale and light headed. Instead of not making it worse by not making a big deal about it, his tattoo artist started fanning him with his hand and asking him repeatedly if he was ok. So his friends who were there immediately circled around him and made a big spectacle. They asked him if he was going to pass out and snickered at him; even his girlfriend laughed. The entire room was fixated on him. I am so glad that wasn't me. That would have made me lose consciousness immediately.
He got a bit of revenge on his girlfriend, however. Later on when she was getting her tramp stamp she started puking violently and couldn't stop. After a while I was surprised that she had anything left to throw up but she kept going. While all her friends laughed in her face her boyfriend shouted at her "And YOU were making fun of ME! Hahahahahaha!"
My tattoo took about two hours. Dean said the outline would be the worst part but he was wrong. The outline was a cake walk compared to the coloring and shading. By the time he got to coloring it in my arm had already been cut up by the outline so it was like drilling through an already open wound.
Even though it was very painful and I was a nervous wreck beforehand, the final product was well worth it. Dean did an amazing job. Not only does it look great but it has a lot
of meaning for me. And I like that it is not generic and it is not something that will be duplicated. I came up with it and it actually means something to me. I couldn't be happier about it.For those who are wondering, there is a shamrock because Austin's birthday is one day after St. Patrick's day. He always used to joke that St. Patty's was really an excuse for the world to celebrate his birthday. The quote at the top ("A Bond That Will Never Die") is from one of my favorite Bouncing Souls songs called "Manthem". The song is a tribute to those people who are more than merely friends, they are more like family.
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