For those of you who follow me on Instagram, as you guys know, I got my first ink done approximately two weeks back!
For those of you who are not following me, fret not, for here’s a picture:
(Pssssst! The username is @hoeofslytherin, it’s best if you follow *wink wink*)
I’ve always been fascinated by tattoos and body art. Always loved them and harboured a desire to get them done on myself. I’m not sure about other places but getting tattooed in my city is quite expensive. Me, being a student (only 6 months more!) had to save up quite a lot for quite some time before I could get this done. Initially, I had planned on getting the tattoo in July of last year, but a series of unfortunate events led to the diminishing of my allowance, therefore I had to wait another few months. And hence came December, with a huge bounty and the spirit of Christmas (and also before the money disappeared out of my hands) I dragged my mum and we went to the studio and BAM! Got ourselves some sick tattoos!
I had no problem selecting my piece since I’d already planned it a year back, in fact, I’ve already planned my first seven designs! So I had no trouble with the selection. Since it’s my first tattoo, I decided on the Deathly Hallows symbol as a permanent reminder that I would never renounce one of the best things to ever happen during my childhood. I was fine with just the Hallows symbol but my artist kept insisting on the snitch as he wanted to show the intricate details that went in sketching the snitch. I agreed and left him to his own devices.
Speaking of my artist, he was quite the interesting chap. My mom had gone inside the room to get hers done, while I had to wait for the artist to call me. And when he came over, I couldn’t help noticing the arrogant expression that he had all over his face. My Bitch-radar was tingling, and since I trusted my instincts, I had a feeling this guy was going to suck all the nice-ness out of me, and not in an erotic way (which was what I would’ve preferred)
But boy, I was half-wrong. He was a douche but under all that swagger, he was….nice. As soon as we got down to business, him with a formidable looking needle, and me sitting on a tiny foldable chair that was probably groaning under my weight, we started to talk. So, get this, he’s been kicked out of like 6 schools, has anger/violence issues, hates music, an atheist, loves bikes and cars. I burst out laughing, and when he asked me why I laughed, I asked him how it feels to be a living, breathing, walking, talking, societally-perpetrated stereotype. He just grinned and mumbled that last phrase, and that’s when I realised he was adorable AF.
The overall tattooing process took about an hour. During the first half I tried to be as nice and friendly as possible, asking him questions, keeping the conversation from dying but even I have limits to being nice per-person, per-day, so I simply stopped talking and just listened to music and observed the other artists in their natural habitat, which was blaring with rock music. It was quiet for a while, but then I guess he felt bored and he started talking to me again, and the conversation went something like this-
Him: I don’t know what to talk to people about actually
Me: You must have SOMETHING. Think.
Him: I can go on and on about cars and bikes…
Me: I’ll pass
Him: I can also talk about lingerie
Me: OK, what’s your favourite colour?
Him: *taken aback* Are you serious? Black….and lacy.
Me: Laced underwear keeps slipping off bruh, it’s annoying. They look good on the floor though.
Him: *smirk* That’s true.
I was low-key flirting? I didn’t even realize till I was talking about this to a friend! I don’t even KNOW how to FLIRT! My idea of flirting is calling someone a sexy potato while making inappropriate growling sounds! I like to think I was just being a good conversationalist *dignified silence*
What’s more, I told him I was a blogger and he asked if I was going to blog about the tattoo. I told him I most definitely will be and I probably will blog about him too. He seemed unfazed by that as one of his customers had blogged about how she would bone him in different positions with graphic details. I asked him if he had that printed and framed on his bedroom wall, and if I could have a copy.
It was enjoyable for me, since I was blunt and straight-forward with all my answers and I’m guessing I was a pretty fun client, because I noticed almost all the customer-artist pairs were all quiet and hardly talking, while we were yapping our heads off. The other tattoo artist sitting next to me was literally bending over sideways to listen to our conversation.
So apparently, he gets mistaken for his age. Since most of their customers are teenagers, they end up thinking that he’s one of them and try to bargain about bringing down the cost, while constantly whining and saying “pwwweeese”. And then he asks me if I think he looks young. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of being right, so I told him that I think he’s balding already and to have that checked.
Me, a straight-up savage.
Well, there you go, that was an interesting conversation. I meet a lot of people in my life, but I get taken with only a few. They may be normal, or weird or different, but someone who is very comfortable in their skin are my favourite kind of people. I find them interesting, and therefore, like to share these stories on here for you guys.
And this isn’t my last tattoo. I’m addicted. I want more, I need more! The next time I go to the studio, I’ll try getting an official interview and a picture (He’s fiiiiiiiiiiiiine)
Do you guys have any tattoos? I would love to hear about/see them! Comment or tag me! 🙂
Have a wonderful week ya’ll!