I changed my tattoo last night.
I thought a lot about my friend Lisa. She was with me when I got my original. I was eighteen. Decided it would be a good idea to exert the power of freedom from the parents. Plus, she was getting one and I just had to do it with someone else because other wise I would have been to chicken.
Anyhoo, I went last night. Alan paid. He is so great.
I got really nervous right before the guy started. Who by the way, is named Bozz. Why? Why not David or Brandon? You know, the name your parents gave you.
I have never been to a tattoo place where the guys are normal.
So he starts. I jump. High.
"Good thing that didn't have ink on it. Think your ready now?" Bozz tells me.
At least he is smart.
So he begins.
And I have to tell you, I am the biggest baby. I wanted to cry. I do not remember it hurting that much.
At one point I had made up in my mind that I was going to stop and just go home with how it was.
But since Alan had already paid and three of my friends were watching, I stayed put.
I now have a turtle on acid.