Tattoos
February 28th, 2008I love getting my quarterly cut and color at Hair Today on 5th Avenue. My nose-ringed stylist, Minion, regales me with youth culture and advice. This time we discussed my latest midlife crisis project: tattoos.
“I’m thinking of getting a tattoo, Minion.”
“Oh RAD, Dawn, that’s so cool! I know this awesome tattoo woman on State. She’s a bitch but God what an artist.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah like if you ask her if it’ll hurt she’ll get pissed off and say ‘So fucking what?’ But her stuff is super high quality.”
“Do you have any tattoos?”
“For sure! Check this out,” Minion lifted up her foot to about my eye level. Lord, she’s limber. “This butterfly on my ankle is the oldest. Two years ago I got some curlicues across my lower back and last year I got a rose on my ass. This is my latest.” She proudly rolled her shirt sleeve up to reveal a mustard yellow floral spray on her deltoid.
“I can’t wait to get another,’ she continued, hands back into my hair. “I’m thinking of asking for something sorta Asian you know, yin and yang stuff. I’ll probably stick it on my inner thigh or maybe my other butt cheek.” She slapped her hip. “Lots of room back there.”
“Minion!” called Raymond from behind the shampoo sink. “I want Serena to get a little daisy tattoo.”
“Give me a break, Raymond. You are so out there”. She leaned down to my ear. “Serena is his pug dog.” Minion rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the subject at hand.
“So, Dawn, what kind of tattoo were you thinking of?”
“I have a vertical scar on my stomach,” I said. “I thought I’d turn it into a vine or maybe a dragon twisting around a pole.”
Minion’s face lit up. “That is so RAD! Is your scar like really big?”
“Well, yes.”
“Wow,” her eyes twinkled. “I wish I had one.”
“Or maybe I should get something here.” I pointed behind my ear.
“How about flowers down your neck! So cool!”
“I don’t know. Seems like it might hurt.”
She ran her index finger up and down the side of her neck. “Probably. But they all hurt.”
“That’s not encouraging.”
“Oh, chill. After the first few pokes you go sorta numb anyway. ‘Course my ankle hurt super-more than my ass. But the end result is like awesome so no big deal.” She pulled the waistband of her lime-checked jogging tights down her hip about three inches to reveal a short-stemmed crimson rose, complete with thorns, etched into her flank
“God, Minion,” complained Raymond, “will you please put that thing away?”
She glanced at him and snapped her waistband.
“Bite me.”
Looking back at me, she fussed with my hair a bit more. “For sure it hurts and you bleed but then you have this artwork that is timeless. I mean, when I’m sixty I’ll still have my tattoos!”
“And that’s good?”
She ignored me. “Maybe I’ll get a tree next. Something classy. What looks good at sixty, Dawn?”
“A retirement plan.”
“No, I mean in TATTOOs.
“Dollar signs?” I was trying to be helpful.
“Awesome!” She spun me around, spritzing a halo of lemon scent. When I paid my bill and headed for the door she called out, “Hey, Dawn! Next time look for dollar signs!”
I smiled. “I always do.”
END