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"What would you say if I wanted to get a tattoo?" I questioned my wife.
"I'd say that you would be even hotter with tattoos!" she replied with great interest.
That it how it started. Just a simple question. You see in order for anyone to understand why this was such a big deal, I have to take you back to the beginning...
... In the beginning, God created—No! Not that far!
The church was white. Of course it was. What church isn't white? It's like a commandment spoken by God—"Thou shalt paint thy Churches and Synagogues white or The Lord Thy God shall smite thee by raining fire and brimstone upon thine house!" but who knows? This thought crossed his mind as he walked into the small white church tucking his shirt into his pants and fixing his hair as he briskly walks past a mirror in the vestibule. He could hear the music starting, but without drums because he was late once again. Although some people say that a king is never late, everyone else is simply early... or was that a queen? As he struggled to remember, he grabbed his drumsticks out of his back pocket and pressed onward to the altar. Song service was yet again another boring session filled with the same songs and butchered singing, but after that came the preaching. The good ol' fire and brimstone kinda preaching.
"We are born into sin! We must be set free by the blood of the Lamb for if we don't we ALL shall burn in Hell! Oh, that terrible place! Hell is for the wicked and sinful!" The pastor ranted on with the congregation fueling the rage. "Do you wanna go to Hell, son?" He pointed as he thundered from the platform. "Ye must REPENT sayth the Lord! Hell is for those who have broken God's commandments! For those who have fornicated, murdered, lied, stole, marked their bodies...."
That same young boy that was late to church service and played the drums decided to get a tattoo all these years later. Even though this meant damning his soul to endless torture until the very end of time.
We've never been one to believe something that someone has told us. We have both been blessed by the Lord with hard heads. It's not that we don't listen, we just have to experience things for ourselves. We don't believe in following someone or something blindly. I personally feel that when people raise their children with what they have been taught not learned for themselves, it creates a problem because everyone is different and will experience everything differently. This can cause some people to lose out on a happy life because their parents said that something was bad when they had absolutely no idea about what they were speaking of.
We both share a major interest in art. Love it. No matter what it consisted of. We both find it so interesting how certain people see the world. Not the mention the artist themselves and how they are able to just create something so beautifully. I have always thought it would be nice to have something of that caliber of art in a place where I can see it every day all day long, regardless of what I was doing or where I may be.
"Well, what will you even get, babe?" she asked.
I hung my head in confusion, "I haven't the slightest clue," I mumbled in complete dismay.
With no ideas to guide us, we each took to Pinterest to see what we couldn't muster up. It was my wife who showed me a picture of this couple with two tattoos. The guy had a "K" with a heart in red ink on his inner ring finger and the woman had the same only with a "Q" instead of a "K." I still didn't know much about tattooing at the time, but I did know that a finger tat was incredibly painful. She, being the smart, beautiful woman she is, pointed that out to me. So we both agreed to get them on our wrist. Thus began our research into the perfect tattoo place.
We eventually settled on a small place just outside one of the bigger cities around us. As we pulled up, we both looked at each other and just like when you get a little rough with your sibling after they make you mad, I asked, "You good?" and with the most straight face I've ever seen from her, she replied, "Let's do this shit."
As we walked in, I was quickly drawn to the masterpieces of art work posted up on the walls. We both were immediately sold as we stood there staring at this certain piece. We were looking at a painting of several skulls coming out a deep black background. This piece was a simple enough painting, but I could see that there was much more to be had.
"Can I help you?"
Snapping out of our trance, we turned around to see a young guy standing behind a counter. His arms were covered in tattoos and he was sporting a nose piercing.
"Yeah! My wife and I were looking to grab some tattoos today," I replied.
"Alright man, cool. Whatcha got, my friend?"
I showed him the picture my wife had sent me of the two tattoos.
"Looks good, man. Let me sketch up an idea real quick. You can go ahead and head on back."
Shortly, the artist returned to his humble little tattooing hole. He placed his tracing template on my wrist. I couldn't help be somewhat nervous. I mean, he was about to place a needle on my skin, poke it, and mark me for life.
"You okay, Bud?" You seem a bit nervous," he chuckled. "First time isn't it?"
I just shook my head like a young girl who was about to lose her virginity on prom night. Then the needle hit my skin... Now I'm sure this is the part that you are wanting to hear. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as I thought that it was going to hurt. I turned to my wife. "THIS AIN'T SHIT!" I yelled. After I did that, the artist laughed and told me that most people over think the pain their first time. After I was done, my wife sat down and yelled the same thing to me (of course, she has given birth to two kids so I really doubted a tiny needle was going to hurt her).
I'm writing this almost three weeks post tattoo. We love it! Once we save up some more money, my wife and I have decided to get more. So, if you are thinking about it, make like Shia LaBeouf and JUST DO IT (or Nike... if you don't understand the reference)!