October 20, 2004

A Rose is a Rose...

Snapshots In My Time, Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Tattoo of course!

Spring of 1994, Savannah Georgia

That was the year I got a tattoo. A rose... small and tasteful on my left shoudler blade. A tattoo was something I had been thinking about since 1983. Yes. It took that long for me to make up my mind. My best friend came up for a weekend and we decided to get in the car to make a trip to Savannah. Neihter of us had ever been there. We both decided to get a tattoo. Of course, I was the only one who followed thru. After all, I had been deciding this for quite some time and the time had finally come.

One of coworkers sisters had about 10 tattoos, very well done and all very tasteful. She was the one who told me where to go to get a great tattoo without fear of getting Aids or Hepatitis. She also explained to me how it worked. I was mentally ready. So after lunch, my best friend and I entered the parlor to get a tattoo. I scanned all the books and found a rose. I had no idea who who would be doing it as it really was whoever got done, in the chair you went. But, then I realized they had one person doing all the women. That was good as it gave me time to size up the artist and opt out if I needed to.

The artist who was doing all the women was downright scary. He was the worse looking man in the place. After watching him for about an hour I was ready to leave. He was not dirty or gross just scary. He looked like a skinhead. A real skinhead. He had no hair, had on black leather and if you looked up skinhead in Webster's dictionary, his picture would be there. No telling how he could hurt someone once he got that needle in his hand. When it got to be my turn..or rather 1 women before me I got close enough to hear him talk to her.

He did not sound like a skinhead. In fact he sounded quite normal. I know looks can be deceiving but he was still on shaky ground with me. When he got done with the woman before me, he took about 15 minutes to get his equipment changed out and ready for the next person. Me. I took that golden opportunity to talk to him...to build some sort of rappport before I got in that chair. As it turned out he was a college student who had just completed 4 years and had been working with Social Services in Savannah. He was totally burned out from helping people and had left the job to get a break.

He was starting graduate school in the fall and was working as a tattoo artist just do have some money coming in before school began. And yes, he was going to get his masters in Social Work. All my fears were set aside. I was a social worker also at the time and had spent all my years since college working with head injured adults or the elderly. What a small , small word. Boy can looks be deceiving. Man was I relieved beyond words.

He was the best tattoo artist ever, even though he is the only tattoo artist I have had any dealings with. He explained the process as we went along, told me what to expect as far as feeling and it was a wonderful experience. He did great work and now it needs to be re-inked as it has faded. I know he most likely will not be at the parlor now, but I hope to go and have it re-inked in the next 2 years. In fact, I hope to get another tattoo. Another tasteful one and I sure do hope I have an artist as great as the first one.

Tattoos are a good thing! Try it..you'll see!


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