February 26, 2007

new ink ... part 1


I’ll admit that there’s one thing I miss most from working at the bookstore. The many free books, CDs, and DVDs that landed on my desk on a daily basis. On average, I would estimate that I received about $2,000 worth of free products on a yearly basis.

One of the most exciting items I received last year was Fort Minor’s CD The Rising Tied. I haven’t listened to it once. I know it’s rap and I hear it’s good, but I’ve never bothered to play it.

However, I was captivated by the artwork on the CD’s jacket. It contained the coolest graphics I’ve seen in a long time (designed by the band’s founder Mike Shinoda of Linkin Park fame). As soon as I saw it I knew I was going to break the law. Copyright infringement ... not the first time, and certainly not the last. On my left forearm stood little Diego in a Devil’s outfit urging me on. “Breaking the law, breaking the law.”

Chris, me heterosexual boyfriend, was moving back to DC. I knew that on his first day back he’d want to commemorate his return with fresh ink. He was in the city all an hour before we headed to the tattoo parlor.

We went to Rick’s Tattoo in Arlington, which unfortunately lived up to every parlor cliché available. Lame flash art on the walls, a filthy bathroom filled with years of junk, someone’s discarded college furniture, and the emotionless-cigarette-smoking receptionist. Someday someone will wake up and realize that having an associate who engages clients and makes them feel welcomed and comfortable is not “selling out.”

I went in wanting the skull and crossbones from the cover jacket but when it was time to tell the artist, I changed my mind and went with the skull and crossbones from the inside. The artist worked quickly and expressed interest in the design and my previous tattoos. All in all, he had an excellent bedside manner.

When it was done, I had an (little) anxiety attack. I let doubt creep in. It was too hardcore. It was too large. Wrong limb. Right limb, but off by a ¼ inch. I was one step closer to circus freak. Arrrrgh.

I kept it bandaged for a few days while it healed. I stared at it trying to get used to it, but it wasn’t until I unexpectedly caught sight of it in the mirror that I thought, “Wow, that looks cool.” I showed it to a few people at work and they all said the right things. “It’s cool.” “I wish I saw that design before you did.” “I’m so getting a tattoo.”

When I started the new job I was told I would have to keep my tattoos covered. That didn’t last long. I was wearing short-sleeved shirts the day after I read the dress code, which stated that offensive tattoos must be covered. Offensive is so subjective.

I couldn't find an image to steal ... er ... borrow of the inside jacket. The skull and bones on the cover has the same styling as the one on the inside.

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