I mentioned recently that I was taking #1 off my bucket list. I’m replacing it with “get a tattoo”.
I know, not that original, but something I want to do.
I am actually really happy I held out on getting a impulse tattoo. Between the ages of 16 and 18 I was close a few times, but my good judgement got the better of me.
I think my new-found admiration for tattoos came when I saw the Ethiopian Coptic Christian facial tattoos done using a hand poke method. The style is not very precise, but I found it to be very beautiful. The fading that is inevitable with all tattoos even adds to the allure of this style of tattoo.
I am enough of a conformist where I definitely am going to pass on a facial tattoo, but on our last trip to Ethiopia, my friend Bryan and I were set on getting a push and poke tattoo.
We asked our friend and driver, Girma, to take us to get a tattoo. We thought we talked him into getting one, too..
Every day, we talked about our excitement for our tattoos. We realized on our last day of our trip we still hadn’t made a set plan to go get it.
Me: Girma, it is our last day, we need go get our tattoos!
Girma: Actually…I’m sorry, we’re not getting tattoos.
Girma: You were so excited, so, I didn’t want to ruin your fun, but it is too dangerous. (Yes, he’s reasonable, but we still love him.)
Bryan and I looked at each other like we had both been had. Our driver had taken us on a ride, alright.
Girma promised us next time we come out we’ll make a trip to buy needles and ink and we will make a plan to go get one done, but unless we bring all of our own materials, he didn’t find it safe.
Okay okay, yes the voice of reason had spoken, but it still did not detract from my desire to get a tattoo.
So, I’m going to chronicle my quest for my first tattoo. This could end one of two ways: getting something I truly love and I’m happy will be decorating my body for the rest of my life…or…a trip to Dr. Tattoff.
We shall see.