Today I went to my ex's tattoo parlor. A few months back he found me on My Space, and we began talking. I asked him if he'd design a tattoo for me. Initially I wanted something with a cat/veterinarian theme, so he drew me a gray cat with one of those reflecting scopes on his head. He looked too angry, however, and I decided it was a little too hardcore to be permanently posted on my right shoulder. It's my fault because I asked him not to design me a wussy tattoo.
His parlor is located in Hazel Green, Wisconsin. This is the case because in our hometown of Dubuque, tattoo parlors are illegal unless a doctor is on staff monitoring the evil deeds of the artists. What doctor wants to spend his/her career sitting in a tattoo parlor? None, and Dubuque knows it. It's their way of keeping parlors out of the city, which is 80% Roman Catholic.
I talked my mother into going with me. She wanted to make sure I wouldn't start crying while Toby (my ex) dug his sterile needles into my arm. You see, my first tattoo hurt like hell and I swore I would never get another tattoo in my life (I have three now). I got my first tattoo in Seabrook, TX while listening to Korn and watching "Texas Chainsaw Massacre". Well, it felt like a chainsaw massacre.
I sat in Toby's chair back in his little area near the rear of the building. He told me a story about his stalker (some strange college student with a lazy eye), who came in requesting an eyeball tattoo on her calf. Not kidding. He said he did everything not to laugh at her as he worked on her tattoo, and thought about drawing a lazy eye on her calf.
Toby's area consisted of a chair, tattooing equipment, and many personal items. He had the old-school alphabet magnets stuck to the side of a mini-fridge used to store some of his supplies. They spelled out "REDRUM". Sweet. I also noticed the Slipknot curtain, a WWF championship belt, two pairs of brass knuckles, and other various weaponry and other illegal items (well in Texas anyway). Oh yeah, Toby had thick black eyeliner on, black painted fingernails, a face piercing and a ton of tattoos. Perfect. He's got four kids (all boys) and a wife, and seems to love his job and his kids.
My tattoo took about 30 minutes to complete. It looked great and I was very pleased. My mother had such a good time. I tried talking her into a naked chick straddling a wrench, but she chickened out.
