2004-10-06
High on my list of crippling fears is needles. I'm more apt to turn away from the string of flu shot shortage segments that's making the rounds of the TV news these days, with their gratutitous extreme close-ups of needles plunging into biceps inserted under a reporter's analysis of the vaccine crisis. The story can stand alone without the additional footage. The visual is unnecessary. But I suppose it wouldn't be TV news if hard-hitting, thought-provoking analysis isn't accompanied by moving pictures, which lately - coincidentally right around the medical report - I find myself cowering away from into my ramen noodles.Honestly, I'd rather watch a man be evicerated and disemboweled in a zombie movie than watch a pregnant mother receive a flu vaccine, which is sort of like a dog that will hang his entire head out the car window when you're doing 65 on a country road, but doesn't like it when you blow in his face.
So it with a mix of morbid curiousity and even morbider fear that I followed Chris into Iron Age tattoo parlor. I was flattered that she had chosen me to accompany her for any needed moral support, but I hid well the fact that if there were any supportive hand-holding to be had, I would likely be as much the recipient as I would the benefactor. She was getting "f holes" on her back, which - despite sounding suggestive as hell - are the two grooves on the side of the violin that... do something. Neither Chris nor Kelly, both avid violinists, gave me an answer that made much sense. Either way, it would be two big tattoos, one on each side of her back.
The artist did the outline first, which was apparently uncomfortable, but hardly causing a great amount of pain. Then he began filling in the outline with an even larger, but oddly less painful needle. The coloring was to take two hours, and after awhile we just got to chatting. It's amusing to have a conversation with someone who's being tattooed, because we talked about all the normal stuff, relationships, forensics, class, her going abroad in the spring, all while she was being stabbed in the back hundreds of times!
Later over burgers at Blueberry Hill as we talked about high school, I smiled as I thought, "We're talking about high school over burgers at Blueberry Hill, and your back is bleeding!"
I also got some gnarly pictures.
So Chris' tattoo is done, healing, and very, very hot. I came away with a different point of view. Tattoos apparently aren't numbingly painful, but can be rather boring. It's all in your head, one heavily tattooed artist was telling us during the process. He impacted his point when I asked him if anybody has thrown up while getting a tattoo. His response: "Oh yeah! Fuck! I hate it when they puke!"
So it may be all in my head. But you know, I still feel the fetal position coming on during the medical report. So... I guess I've learned nothing. ...Woo hoo!
Also, I am sitting here in the lab watching a man at the next computer play internet ping pong. I am reminded that it's sunny and 75, and I can't sit here any longer.
-Andy