Please Do Not Tattoo Your Body for Me
Was it a relationship? Well someone seemed to think so. I was on the fence. We had after all been dating for about 3 weeks. It not being wartime in the early 1940's or the apocalypse, this 3 week time frame represented to me what it usually represents to other daters-We were testing the waters. Which is why when he told me he was going down to Georgia to get an arm sleeve tattoo, I stood strong. "Awful, that sounds like an awful idea." I cringed at the thought of dating someone who looked like a juvi exile turned hell's angel.
"You'll love it," He insisted, looking down on me from a confident six foot three inches. Used to getting by on boyish good looks, he felt his winning grin had succeed in getting me on board.
"I think arm sleeves are scary. You have enough tattoos. Why Georgia? Neither of us will ever be able to run for President." I began to babble.
Cut to, three days later when he texts me a photo of himself with some colorful blobby mess on his ribs stretching about six inches wide and five inched down.
"What is that?" I held up the photo to my roommate who looked perplexed.
He comes back to town. He stands in my living room and lifts up his shirt. On his ribs is a tattoo of a giant Oriental looking pirate ship.
"I got it for you"
"What are you talking about?" I laughed.
"How does this have ANYTHING to do with me? I’m Asian, but do I look like Chinese Captain Hook?"
"You didn't want me to get arm sleeves so I got this ship on my ribs that no one can really see. It hurt like a mother f******. The guy said I was crazy for getting it there."
"Oh, you are crazy," I responded.
About one month later we broke up. I hope that every time he sees the icon of our failed dating experience stamped across his torso he thinks of me.
I did buy him 2 tubes of A+D ointment for it. I consider us square.