Tattoo Lounge

Last weekend, J and I got into an argument, and I left in a big huffity-huff like the big bad wolf. I went to my cousin C's apartment on the beach. My cousin C is sexy, single, and a regular pocketful of rainbows and sunshine, which is why she was the perfect person to visit to get my mind off J.



Her apartment also happens to be right across from a tattoo parlor called the Tattoo Lounge. In my frazzled state, I decided that what I wanted to do was get a tattoo. C was hesitant, at best, but her boyfriend was very encouraging, and after much debate ( didn't want to get anything cheesy like a Tweety bird or Betty Boop)I decided I would get a small cross near my unmentionables. That way, if I loved it, I could get it a little bigger, and if I absolutely hated it, the only person who would ever see it would be J. Maybe. If I ever decided to speak to him again.



Now, I had been toying with the idea of getting a tattoo for a while, and people usually thought I was joking. I'd kid that I would get J's name on my butt, and then when people would ask the inevitable, "What if you guys get divorced?", I'd just respond that I'd change the tattoo to read, Joe Mama. So, although the idea of a tattoo was often enticing, I don't like to buy anything I can't return.



But, like I said, my body was humming with anxiety, disappointment, and anger, and this helped fuel my courage. Well, that and the fact that I had had a shot of Cuban coffee, a glass of wine, and a warm bath. All of which only further served to confuse my body. Did I want to get hyped up? Did I want to relax? Did I want to take a nap? My body just wanted me to make a choice and get a grip.



Anywho, I made it to the tattoo parlor and spoke with the owner about what I wanted and where I wanted it and that I was TERRIFIED of getting it. There was a pretty perfect perfection girl about to get a tattoo at that very moment, and she said it would be alright for me to watch. She was getting the outline of a lotus flower on her lower back. After watching the whole process, and after much assurance on her part that it didn't hurt a bit, I was seriously considering it. I mean, my emotions were zigzagging all over the place! I was not in my right mind! I was not my smart cookie self! Who was this person?



Let me just say that Jesus and his angels were watching over my insane ass. I had decided to wear a dress that night and there was no way in this reality that I was going to lay my near naked butt on that table with my unmentionables on display. If I had been wearing shorts or jeans, I would have just rolled down the waistband, but a dress? Oh, hell to the no!



So, I've decided that although I like tattoos on other people, I might just have to pass. Good lord, I could've had a tattoo near my hair pie!