Yesterday I worked my last shift selling beverage tickets and candy for a while. After I was done work, I met up with cyn and Shelley. We determined that I needed food before I was going to get my tattoo, so we walked to Hernando’s Hideaway and enjoyed some very pleasing Mexican food. We then walked up Church street, making a brief detour to the sculpture garden where we got to see an entertaining sculpture of the CN Tower. If you’re in Toronto and can check this thing out, you should. It’s quite entertaining.
We continued to walk up Church street until we reached Exotix, the shop I had my tattoo appointment at. Upon entering, the first thing I saw was a large photo of a woman with the largest genital piercing I have ever seen. It was unnerving. Since I was not, however, getting a genital piercing (nor would I, it’s not my thing,) I didn’t run away screaming. I read through the ‘if you die it’s not our fault’ paper I had to sign before the shop would tattoo me, and signed it, naturally. I had to run up the street to grab some cash, since they don’t take Interac. All of these things took what seemed to be a very long time, although my sense of time I’m sure was completely skewed.
My tattooist, Shane, went through all the prep meticulously. They’re a very clean shop, and they want to make sure that the person being tattooed is completely aware of just how clean they are. While Shane was setting up and getting the ink ready, he suddenly paused and started blinking repeatedly. I was quite amused to learn that he had somehow managed to splash ink in his eye. At least it happened before he started tattoing, so he didn’t have to worry about getting any of my blood in his eyes. Poor guy. Anyhow, he washed his eye out and changed gloves, then carried on as before.
I had to straddle the tattoing chair sideways with my leg through the armrest for him to be able to tattoo my back. It felt a bit lop-sided, but I was glad to have an armrest to lean forward onto. I spent most of the time while I was being tattooed talking to Cyn and Shelley with crossed arms. I was occasionally gripping my arms pretty hard. On the wall in front of me I was staring at about 16 pictures of the Alien, which someone else had had tattooed on them previously – it was like a ‘from concept to completion’ photo study of sorts. Lots of different pictures of the Alien. I also watched Cyn knitting a lot – her scarf was fuzzy and soft and I loved it very much.
The thing about tattooing pain is that it really does hurt. Quite a lot sometimes, I would say. There were a few points when I could feel my back involuntarily twitching, but I did my best to stay as still as possible. Cyn tells me I did pretty well. I had no idea the entire time just how far along the tattoo was progressing, and I didn’t have a clock to look at, so basically the entire duration of the tattooing time had no meaning.
The other thing about tattoing pain is that it’s one of those pains you forget after it’s over… I can’t even recall it now, to be honest, and it was 24 hours ago.
And now here’s what you’ve been waiting for, I’m sure: Digital Photos of the new tattoo.
The red marks you see on my back are from the medical tape used to hold the bandage on overnight. That stuff smarts when you pull it off. In fact, it hurts more than the tattoo itself does. heh.