Another Saturday, another tattoo parlour. Oh yes.
You see how I say that like I hang out in them all the time, though I’d like to. Not least because there are so many stories there.
Few people get a tattoo without Good Reason.
It’s not like pretty shoes or something a celebrity had on on the telly that makes you think: “Oh yes, I’ll have myself a load of that before they go out of fashion.” It’s not the kind of thing that has you in the virtual checkout (having by-passed the virtual changing room and the virtual common sense dispenser) within seconds. Generally, you think about it for a long time.
I know I did. I spent hours on Pinterest and Instagram pondering. One of the design bits was easy – a yin yang because my brother had one like that. I suppose that was my excuse.
After the what, there’s the where. Somewhere flat, somewhere public, somewhere you want to draw attention to, or somewhere sneaky? Somewhere you can see, or only for the benefit of others?
Lots of them are flesh-and-ink memorials. Some are badges of membership. Others a little permanent knot in the corner of the hankie.
Why did you get yours? Can you show me? Here’s mine…
And Saturday… it wasn’t my tattoo, so it’s not my story to tell.