Archive for August, 2009|Monthly archive page

My Tattoos, Shockingly, Aren’t for You.

Before (2008)

Before (2008)

Hey! So! I got a new tattoo. It’s on the knuckles of my middle fingers and I heart them. Now when I give people the finger, they will get a surprise! I like surprises! Wait… no I don’t.. I actually hate surprises. It’s not so much the moment of surprise, but more the element. I hate the waiting, and most people that have attempted to surprise me have failed.

There’s also a type of element that I am not fond of in the least. Those wacky tattooed people that think that because they have tattoos and I have tattoos, it means that we’re automatic best friends. WRONG! The tattoos that I have accumulated over the years have a story, and just because you have some tribal arm band does not, I repeat, DOES NOT mean that I want to talk shop with you. Sometimes I’ll play along if you’re cute and genuinely interested, but really, at the point where my arms are almost covered, it would take hours to get through each one and the background story.

This is a real thing

This is a real thing

I was in Oakville last night, and some 40 year old drunk man was at the same bar as I was. He was in front of me heading up the stairs for a smoke, and when he saw me, he slurred, “Hey, nicccceee innkk ggirrll.” (I don’t know how to spell to make it sound slurry…) I thanked him and continued up the stairs. Upon hitting the patio, he asked me what they meant, and I politely replied that they all have a story, and most of them are personal, but thanks for asking. He got so mad that I wasn’t obliguing his curiosity that he asked why I would get them for…. Well…. I got them for me… not… you…. duh! He was even more insulted, not that I really cared and stomped away.
This is not the first type of incident I have been involved in. Constantly while out with friends, and usually by drunk boys, I will find myself being grabbed by the arm and demanded to spill the beans on what the map is on my right forearm. Which one is the newest? Which one has the most meaning? (Like,… really?) Which one hurt the most? ”

“Oh my god! I love them all! Can I just look at you for a minute?”

No. No you can’t. You have to pay for that sort of thing where I come from. Hamilton.

So. Moral of the story is, that anyone you see that has a tattoo, doesn’t mean you can touch. You may look, cause it’s hard not to, but enough with the grabbing. Please. I’m liable to break the ligament that does the touching. For realsies. Thank you.

Now (2012)

Now (2012)

* I’d like to state for the record that this was written when I barely had any tattoos which was 2009, and now that it’s 2013, NOTHING HAS CHANGED. The only thing that has made a difference is that I’m sassier and I rarely go out to bars anymore. Sad no?*