So we already talked about my first tattoo: the music notes. Obtained because of a BOGO coupon given out at Hobo Days - classy AF.
Time to address my second tattoo. Obtained a year later in the exact same circumstances.
No, I did not learn my lesson.
They say once you get your first tattoo, you can get addicted. I can say that happened to me - but I did wait a year in between because I needed that coupon. I was a broke-ass college student, after all.
I was a sophomore in college and had discovered my love for Andy Warhol. When my friend called me up with news of the coupon, I knew immediately I wanted an Andy Warhol tattoo of some type, but I didn't know what. I used my old pal Google to help me find what would become my second (and arguably worst) tattoo:
(Funny story: I was freshly dating my disastrous art major boyfriend when this tattoo opportunity came about, and he offered to design a tattoo for me. While still new to the tattoo world, I knew tattoo rule number one: do NOT get a tattoo related to your significant other when you are nineteen and freshly dating. I turned him down.)
So the time came to get our tattoos, and my friend got hers first. This was to be my first (and so far only) tattoo in color; a new experience for me. I opted to get it on my my left side right below my ribs - unbeknownst to me, a horrible, horrible mistake.
The first tattoo I had gotten was a walk in the park, so I was expecting a similar experience. I could not have been more wrong.
Until I had a baby many years later, this remained the most painful experience of my life.
I actually tried to tap out. I was covered in sweat and thought I was going to pass out. I told him to just do the outline and skip the color; it would be fine. (Or so my friend told me - I actually have no memory of this.) I gave no shits; I was DONE. The tattoo artist overruled me and did end up finishing the tattoo. It might have looked better if he had left it undone; who knows. All I really know is it looked like trash from the moment it was done.
And guess what? It hasn't improved over the last nearly 20 years. Like my music note tattoo, though, it's in a spot where the sun doesn't often reach, so I don't lose a lot of sleep over it.
I do realize asking a mediocre tattoo artist to reproduce a literal work of art probably wasn't fair. But this? Come on.
After two shitty tattoos at a bargain basement price, I learned my lesson: you get what you pay for. That's important every day, and it's especially important when it comes to something that will be on your body forever.
And that is how I came to have a ten-plus year hiatus with tattoos.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
