Don't get all caught up in the "approval" part. Mr. B doesn't tell me what to do. But I strongly value his opinion. And, we do share our lives with each other. So I felt like his approval was warranted. He finally told me that he didn't care and that it was my body.
Good enough for me.
So, a few weeks ago, I went by the shop where I planned on getting it and made the appointment. To hold the appointment, I had to pay a $50 deposit. The total cost was going to be $60. They asked if I wanted to pay that and I said yes.
My appointment was scheduled for Thursday night, the 23rd. When I got there - - they looked at me like I had just grown a second head or something. The "artist" wasn't there and said he had no idea that he even had an appointment. (I was concerned about this when I made the appointment.) These particular guys were hosting a big tattoo convention in town that started the next day. They should have never agreed to the appointment. But they did. I was there. I know that the artist agreed to do it. I should have been tipped off when he was "too good" to speak to me and schedule it himself.
To "accommodate me for my trouble" they offered free admission into the convention and they'd do it then. It didn't work as well with my schedule. But I figured it was the best I was going to get. There was no way I'd get my money back. So I "accommodated" them.
When I got there, the guy who said he'd be available to do it pawned me off on a guy they'd brought in from Rome. At first I was mad about it. But K and I looked through his album of artwork and agreed he'd be okay. At this point, I didn't want that other dude touching me with anything. Much less a needle with ink that would be a permanent reminder of his assholian behavior.
Never to fear. We'd be given free passes for the rest of the weekend. (Which we never got. Filthy liars.)
And then - - he tried to charge me an additional $40. Oh no, no, no, no. Not happening.
Let's just say that the Trufant Brothers are fart-knockers and they will NEVER get my business. Ever. They're good? Not worth the headache of dealing with them. Ever. So don't use them. Let me repeat, in case I wasn't clear. The Trufant Brothers are bad news. Do not use them.
It turns out that the guy from Rome was awesome. And SO nice! Here are a few pictures of my adventure:
Before:
Eeek!
The outlining. (Yep. That's a real needle. They are not licked on by kittens.)
All smiles. No tears.
The finished work.
My "guys" from Rome. (Beautiful accents by the way.)
At home a few hours later.
What does it mean? Easy. Psalm 73:26
"My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."
It's for me. Not for anyone else. But for me. It's a reminder. A visual, daily reminder of God's love for me. A reminder that I am far from perfect. I'm about as imperfect as they get. And He loves me anyway! It's a reminder to stay grounded in my faith. His love for me is never-ending and perfect. I *so* don't deserve that. But I accept it.
So. There you have it. I've been inked. I love it.
4 comments:
I like it. I think it's tasteful, and completely you.
Thanks Mom! That means a lot coming from you.
It's surprising how judgmental people can be when it comes to tattoos. I get that they aren't for everyone. But this one means a lot to me and I don't regret a thing.
I shouldn't be surprised at all that you understand.
Did it hurt? That's the only thing stopping me from getting one.
It's a pretty design and if it means something to you, then it's all that more cool.
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