What I Wish I Knew Before I Got My Tattoo

Sitting in the chilly and art filled waiting area, I noticed the photos of previous works around me. I thought about the different things the tattoo would symbolize and the nature of the tattoo itself. I thought to myself, "This is it, my first tattoo. I am finally old enough!"

Then the smell of cigarettes circled the room and attacked my nose. When I looked up, a 6-foot, muscular man with tattoos covering his arms and a shiny, bald head stood in front of me. The man, named Crush, asked if this would be my first tattoo. Suddenly his serious facial expression became a smirk and as he shook his head, he revealed that I was next.

Hearing that I was next, my ears began to ring. The room, no longer obtaining its color and artistic vibe, became dim. Before I knew it, my heart started beating faster and faster, as though it was moving to an African drumbeat. I stood up on my Jell-o feeling legs and entered a smaller room.

When I entered the room, I noticed the foreign tools lying on the table. One after another, the tools looked sharper and more frightening. As I sat in the chair voices of my friends and family members, assuring me that the tattoo would not hurt, played over in my head. I remembered that "fear is only in your mind," according to my volleyball coach.

After I calmed myself down, the artist pulled out a needle the length of my ring finger. I was terrified all over again. The artist then said that it would only be painful if the area where the tattoo was going to be had not been exposed to sunlight. Unfortunately, I wanted my tattoo on my upper arm where no sunlight had been in years.

The artist went to work, and I tried not to think about the unbearable pain. Not only did the needle poke me repeatedly, but it had to be done a couple of times before they could even add the ink. While continuously driving the needle into my arm, the artist sneezed and his hand shook, making the tattoo of my name uneven. I thought to myself, "Why didn't anyone warn me about this?"

Realizing that I would have to walk around with my name lop-sided, I suddenly wanted to cry. Then my arm started to bleed. As the blood ran down my arm, I wanted this to end.

An hour later, my arm was numb and I sat in the chair waiting to pay the cashier. He looked at me and said "$80 is the price." I looked at him and my mind seemed to be unclear. Standing at the counter, I wondered why everyone neglected to mention the costly prices. I understood that artistically amazing tattoos were expensive, but for six uneven letters, I thought it was too much.

He then told me that I would need to purchase a jar of Vaseline and baby rash cream. On my way to the store, I could only see dollar signs. I purchased the necessary products totaling about $11 and went home. Realizing that the cost of the tattoo had put a damper on my wallet, I vowed never to get another tattoo.

However, everyone neglected to mention that once you get one tattoo, you become addicted. Within the next two weeks, I found myself thinking about getting another tattoo.

Sitting in my room sketching tattoo ideas for next time, I noticed that my arm was swollen under my tattoo. I immediately told my mom who rushed me to the hospital only to find out that my tattoo was infected. The doctors ran many blood tests to make sure I was okay. It turned out that the infection arose because of the deepness of the tattoo. The doctors cut under my arm and drained the puss out. I then learned that I had to stay in the hospital that night. Lying on the hospital bed, I could not help but wonder why no one warned me about this. I realized that no one ever talks about the consequences of getting a tattoo, like the pain, costliness, addiction or infections.

Tattoos are artistic muses created to give individuality and symbolism. They are sometimes cute, sexy, or weird and they help reveal our personalities. However, they are also dangerous, painful and permanent. While lying on the hospital bed, I vowed never to get another tattoo and I realized all the factors I wished I knew before I got a tattoo.