My first ink, today (9)

Posted by Skyhook on Tue 12 Jan 10, 11:13 PM to Skyhook's blog.

This is not, not a sign of a mid (well, very late-mid thirties) life crisis after my birthday, but today I've finally had my first tattoo done. Yo. I'm still down with the kids. Word.

It's taken that long to decide on the design I got pierced first. Back in the day I had, along with an ear, my nose and nipple pierced. Course this was back when I had long blond hair – as opposed to just 'some hair' now – and could pull the look off. Pulling it off, incidentally is what happened to the nipple piercing; after several years it started working its way out until it was attached by a sliver of skin, getting bored of waiting for it to work out naturally I yanked it out one night. Rather luckily my nip went back to its original shape. I must admit I quite missed it after it'd gone – while it was a bugger of a thing to catch, especially when playing pool or at 'fight class', it was something comforting to fiddle with on long single nights without the fear of going blind.

So, nipple piercing gone, nose and ear studs out and hair cropped (I must admit by this point it was starting to take longer and longer to wash my face in the morning) before I slid into Bill Bailey/Fish off of Marillion/mullet – the-haircut-of-the-Gods territory. I still fancied a tattoo though, especially after stepping out with a few girls who had fantastic ink.

Fantastic ink I admired, but not designs I'd have chosen to have on myself. And there was the problem – choosing the design. I had my mind set on several ideas over the years, but none lasted more than a few months; I'm obviously a bit fickle, though I prefer to see it as being passionate and enthusiastic first – then fickle. Throw in the fact I'm a designer (engineering, mechanical) myself so want precision and tend to consider people muppets unless proven otherwise it was proving hard to make the leap of faith to trust someone to ink me.

I'm not entirely sure what changed. Me probably. Last year I had the nth new favourite design, something that really resonated with me. This one stuck with me; tailored to me, the meaning, er, meaning something to me. I didn't go off the idea this time. Trust then. I memoed someone on I.C. who knows about such things and he recommended a tattooist near me. All sorted then.

Typically I did nothing for months. Recently Mrs S and me have been getting friendly with the owner of a local New Age shop. Really nice girl, but then hippy tree huggers normally are! The shop has a small tattoo parlour out the back, on one visit we got chatting to the artist. Admittedly he looked about 12 but he talked sense when I showed him the design I wanted and the examples of his work looked good.

Time to 'drop the boys off at the pool' or get off the pot then. I gave him a call, booked the afternoon off work and after a last ciggie outside went into the shop.

First tattoo… how would it feel? Well, I was having one on the arm so it wouldn't be that painful, if at all. But it was an unknown; what if it made me feel a bit funny? Being a hard Northern Bloke I chuckle in the face of pain – but I've found certain ouchies, while easily bearable, annoy me in a weird way – I was a tad worried the longer it went on I'd get more hacked off and say “for fucks sake, pack it in!” even though it wasn't hurting.

By the way – you know how submissives talk about the importance of warm-ups, build-up of intensity during a session? Why is it then when submissives 'playfully' spank a domly type they soak their hand in vinegar until it's conker hard then take a mahoosive run-up to extract maximum slappage to unprepared domly ass-cheeks? It's chuffin' annoying. Grrr.

Anyway. His laptop came out, my design was brought up along with the paper copies I'd worked on and we had a bit of a discussion. He was right to change a few things and I stood my ground on a few other elements. Off to the back room, paperwork signed, design hand-traced, colours picked from the huge selection then we were away. Stencil placed, then replaced then time to make it permanent. I said I wouldn't scream like a girl and he said he wouldn't tell if I did. Mrs S was out in the shop, definitely not holding my hand. Neither did I chew on a lump of wood.

It was fine. I do realise that I had my tatt done in a very easy place, of course! But all there was was a mildly aggravating scratchy feeling. We chatted away, and then it was done. I thought it'd take ages!

I have to confess I can't stop looking at it. The perfectionist in me is frowning that it's not pixel perfect but the realist in me, er, realises that's impossible. There are a few tiny fill-ins and additions I want, but the artist offered free touch-ups (oooh er missus) a few weeks down the line if needed. Top smart.

I'm planning the next already…

Edited Tue 12 Jan 10, 11:17 PM by Skyhook