Robin kindly answered my call for blog fodder by asking if I have any tattoos. Robin is a great girl with a great family. She has a fantastic sense of humor. The only complaint I can bring up about her is that she DOES NOT UPDATE HER BLOG OFTEN ENOUGH!!!! hint hint nudge nudge
I, personally, do not have a tattoo. My husband, on the other hand, is well on his way to becoming Lydia the Tattooed Lady. I almost got inked once, so I guess I'll tell that story.
When I was a newly minted 18 year old college student, I decided I needed a tattoo. I saw a picture of a model in Rolling Stone magazine. She had a ring of pink flowers around her ankle. At that time tattooing was illegal in South Carolina, so my roommate and I set off for Charlotte, which was stupid because everybody knows you go to Savannah to get tattooed. My roommate, Betsy, and I came up with a scheme. We would stay with her cousin in Columbia at USC. We would then take a day trip to Charlotte to get inked. Mind you this was 1989, years before Al Gore invented the Internet. Or maybe it was invented already. I don't know. Leave me a comment if you know when the Internet was invented. So we set off from Charleston to Columbia, which took about 90 minutes, spent the night in Columbia, and drove to Charlotte, about 2 more hours, the next day. We could have done the whole deal in Savannah which is only about 90 minutes away, but, like I said, we didn't know any better. Since we had no Internet to rely upon, as soon as we got to Charlotte we stopped at a pay phone (this was before cell phones, too) to look up tattoo studios in the phone book. We found one in the yellow pages so we drove to his studio. Once we got there I showed the tattoo artist my picture, and he told me he didn't do freehand work; I would have to chose from one of the samples on his wall. Nothing really struck my fancy, but I picked out a pink flower that looked pretty enough. Mr Tattoo man could tell I wasn't 100% sold on my choice, so he wisely told me to sleep on it and come back tomorrow if I still wanted the flower tattoo. He also gave us directions to another tattoo studio that did freehand work. Maybe they could give my ring of flowers. We got lost and drove around greater Charlotte for what seemed like hours. We finally found the place. It was an old rundown house full of biker types. We opted not to stay. We drove back to Columbia, spent the night, and went back to Charleston the next day. That's the story of how I almost got a tattoo.
Tomorrow I'll tell you about Bill's first tattoo. It involves a hormonal postpartum woman and a 19 year old girl.
Wendy
Background noise: Teen Titans.
