Bucket List

Should I or Shouldn’t I?
Robin Hoselton

The young man’s eyes widened when I asked, “Do you do old ladies?”

Realizing how that sounded, I blurted, “I mean tattoos!”

I grew up believing that tattoos are for drunken sailors. Imagine my horror when I saw my daughter’s leg tattooed with little sea creatures from her thigh to her toes.

What changed my mind? In the autumn of my years, I’m assessing my bucket list. So many celebrities have brought tattoos into the mainstream that it whet my curiosity about something I’ve secretly coveted.

Is it art or is it mutilation? Ask that question about ear piercing. Does it hurt? Maybe…depends on the individual. Is it dangerous? Yes, with dirty needles or recycled ink. Will there be regrets later? Certainly, if you sport a garish “tat” and work in a conservative profession. Or if in a romantic haze, you brand yourself with a name and then end the relationship.

Mulling, Decision, Action

After mulling over the idea for three months, I spent two weeks studying designs. I wanted something dainty and feminine, but after looking at hundreds of butterflies and flowers, I concluded that just wasn’t me. I checked out fantasies—rainbows, unicorns, fairies—but they made me feel flaky.

Next: zodiac signs—boring. Cartoon characters like Tweety Bird were too cutesy. I’d almost given up when I began considering animal pictures. I waded through horses, tigers, wolves. Then I found THE one—a dolphin!

Though I had checked reviews and web sites, the chosen shop’s tawdry posters plastered on the windows almost changed my mind. But the premises inside were clean and the two young men were friendly and professional.

I wanted my dolphin on the inside of my leg above the ankle—easily covered by pants. I sat on a comfy padded chair with my leg outstretched over a disposable cloth. The artist cleaned the skin with an antiseptic solution and applied a stencil. While we waited for it to dry, he showed me the colors—black, two shades of blue, and white. He poured small amounts into little paper containers and adjusted the electric needle. The outlining would probably hurt a bit, he said, but the shading wasn’t bad.

It couldn’t hurt much, I reasoned, if Angelina Jolie does it so often. However, the instant that he began, I nearly bolted from the chair and fled. It felt like a sharp cat scratch, or as if I were a jack-o-lantern being carved.

I mentally concentrated on making a grocery list, thankful that I hadn’t chosen an intricate or large design. The shading didn’t hurt as badly but it wasn’t pleasant. I watched that needle with a poker face and silently “hurrah”-ed when at last a blue dolphin permanently resided above my ankle. The entire process took about 40 minutes.

Check Mark, Next

Do I like it? Yes. Would I do it over? I don’t know. Still, I’m glad the next experience on my bucket list is much more tame—squeezing a new tube of toothpaste in the MIDDLE!

Tagged aging, bucket list, tattoos, women