Inked

Twelve years went by since I got my first tattoo. It didn't hurt too bad back then. But I was young. Twenty. And I was with my first girlfriend, Lisa. A lifetime and an entire adolescence ago. But my memory, I don't think, gelled well with the reality. That getting tattoos hurts. No, they don't just hurt. Enduring two-and-a-half hours of a needle injecting ink into my arm feels like hell. At first, it was ok. Tasha, the kick-ass artist (who is a Scorpio, and I've just learned to stay away from them romantically), said she'd do a quick test to let me know what to expect. "That's it?" Oh, had I only known. She began the process, and I started talking. We discussed her family, school, movies, books, French, academia, art, expression and the importance of communication (this last one came up after I found out she was a Scorpio). And we talked and talked and she continued inflicting pain, this tattoo artist who has not one drop of injected ink on her body. "So you're unaware of the immense pain you're inflicting on me." Erica came by after a while to keep me company for a bit, and the two of us took a little break after I announced that I was feeling a little light-headed. I was no longer talking as much, the volume of my voice decreased and my breathing slowed. Tasha then told me that's normal; my body was going into protection mode or something like that and apparently was expending all of its energy toward my arm. "You're killin' me here." Tasha felt really bad and then the conversation among the three of us turned to masochism. I wasn't one, Tasha said, because I didn't come in for the pain. Shortly thereafter, Erica left, because it was gonna be another hour. Of pain. Our conversation continued, mine and Tasha's, only I wasn't talking as much. To ask a question took some out of me, but I managed a few here and there. And finally, she announced we were near the end. "Not that I haven't enjoyed our time together, because I have, but thank god." And I left a little giddy to meet Erica for some grub. So, this will be my last tattoo, especially because I almost fainted tonight (on three separate occasions!) when I cleaned it. Nevertheless, it's done. And I love it. The design is a creation of my own, a bit of a twist on the Leo symbol. Fitting, I think.