The story of my tattoo 😕
Finally just going to document it so I can subtly direct people to the list when they have a comment about it. It's a bit of a bummer, but also a little funny.
- •Way back in 1996 I had a bet with one of my good friends. He was an Atlanta Braves fan and I was born a Yankees fan. Whoever's team lost the world series had to pay for the winner to get a tattoo of their team.The Yankees won.
- •Something always came up and it didn't get done right away.Mostly he was always broke and I was always working. He insisted on paying for it, but I wasn't going to let him.
- •Time ran out.He was diagnosed with bone marrow cancer in late '97 and only made it 6 excruciating months. He stayed at my house alot in that time and constantly gave me shit about not getting the tattoo yet...even when he was throwing up in a cooler because of the chemo.
- •Way more time passed.I was working 70+ hours a week for the next decade and had a couple kids. Just no time to get it done, but it was always in the back of my brain.
- •Until that crazy Christmas Day 🎄🎁After parting ways with my kids' mother, our deal was that she always had them on Christmas. I wasn't exactly a rocket scientist and decided getting drunk AF was going to be my Christmas. So when one of my friends (who owns the best Japanese restaurant in town) invited me to his house for sushi and sake Christmas party, I was super excited to get ridiculous.
- •The drinks started flowing 🍻So I actually started talking to people that I didn't know. I discovered that one of the women at the party had a sister who was a "tattoo artist". At this point I had zero common sense left and didn't bother asking questions.
- •"This is a great idea!", I told myself...You be the judge 😕I'm riding back to her house where we are meeting her sister who's going to do the tattoo... Finally.
- •The sister is only 17 and has only done two tattoos. Fuck it. It needs to get done finally. I don't care.I should've cared. Sake is evil.
- •After all these years, I can honor the memory of my good friend....IT'S FUCKING BACKWARDS?!?! ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!?!?!
- •But that's not all...Funny thing about me back when I was drinking, I never forgot a single dumbass thing that took place. Even if I drank so much that I had no idea what I was doing. They brought me back to my house because I was giving the sister a phone as payment for this masterpiece. We hung out for a bit and had a couple more drinks (great fuckin idea). They proceeded to steal shit from my house, trying to be sneaky, having one distract me while the other filled her purse, and vice versa.
- •Was this really happening?I was so out of it that I thought I was imagining it. Did they think I didn't notice them or just not care?
- •Fuck. At least I got a story out of it.The guy that hosted the party felt like shit. The woman at the party was a dancer at a local "gentleman's club" and had been known to do the whole "get a guy hammered and steal his shit" routine. She told me she was a bank manager, and since I didn't go to those bars, I didn't know the difference. He didn't notice us leave, and every time he called I just answered with a "Wazzzzzzuuuuuup" and hung up, which I remember doing. After several attempts to try to get her to fix it I just gave up.
- •I had that damn thing for two years before I found someone who could do a good cover-up.
- •Final result...It needs a touch up, but much better than before.
- •I don't regret any of it. The tattoo isn't for other people, it's for me.But if I had a dollar for every time some goofball innocently said "you must really like the Yankees hehe", I'd be one rich fella 😎 Also, that was the beginning of the end of my drinking days. I don't miss that shit at all.