Tattoo the Do

My uncle jumped off the ship and got a tattoo. Jumped off? Jumped on? Whatever....

Weird tangent aside, my uncle got a tattoo. It's boss. We first went to the tattoo parlor on Sunday. Uncle Do was hesitant then. He didn't want one. My aunt was consistent in her desire for him to have one, so we left tattoo shop with a scheduled appointment and a non-committed uncle. We wandered the city, putting up with his wavering attitude. He kept saying, "I'm not sure....I'm not getting one". Excruciating to listen to his moaning.

We haphazardly wandered into one of the many art galleries throughout Santa Fe, and it hit him like a bolt of lightning. He saw a surrealist painting of a stick bird in the dessert. The painting made connections in his subconscious, something about the desert being his life and the antithesis of the corporate world. Or maybe he just liked the piece. Either way, we went back to the tattoo shop, handed them the picture of the dessert-bird, and it was on. He got tattooed the next day at high noon.

The artist who tattooed him was named Crow. She was your standard version of a tattoo artist. Her presence was composed and intimidating, making it seem like she was too cool for me. I was afraid to stand next to her. I find most tattooists intimidating. The tattoo went by without an incident-Standard business. He claimed it didn't hurt, but the pictures I took of him squirming in his chair beg to differ.

I couldn't watch my uncle get a tattoo for long. There are two reasons. First, the intimidating personnel who work at parlors. Second, I start to want some ink. I don't have anything specific in mind, but I want one. I also know I don't want a tattoo. My solution is to stay out of tempting areas, like a tattoo parlor.

I did a real cool story for KSFR. Wait for tomorrow, I'll put it up.