I got Stewed, Screwed, and Tattooed ! ! !
At A Glance Author Dan Contact Dan@bme.anon IAM TexasWolf When It just happened Artist Mike Studio Big Buddha Location Lubbock, Texas People frequently ask me if I regret my tattoos. I sure do. I got my first tattoo when I was too damned young to get tattooed. I was only fifty years old, and had only been seriously thinking about getting one for about twenty-seven years. But like most young people, I am just too impetuous and one day I just did it. I had only been carrying the design I thought I wanted around with me for about six months, and had only discussed it with about five different artists in three different cities. But I guess on that fateful, regrettable day, Tim was finally getting really tired of my stupid questions, so that day he finally said, "SO, When Are We Going to DO THIS ? ? ?" So I just said, "how much?" He said, "A Hundred." So I said "How about Right Now" and gave him a Hundred and said he could have it whether I went through with it or not, even if I freaked and ran out.
So we went back and he prepped me for a band around my left ankle. I thought that was nice and discrete for a fifty year old kid like me. Then I started regretting what I was doing and thinking, "what is my wife gonna say," and then I worried, "my momma is gonna kill me!" And Tim said, "Are You READY ? ? ?" I said "YEP ! ! !" and he started. Not too bad. At first. Then I started to regret it. It hurt quite a bit. And I could not BELIEVE I was letting him do that to me! But the sonofabitch had my money already and he had already blemished my perfect body, so I guessed I would just have to really REGRET having to live with the fucking thing around my leg for the rest of my damned life and I might as well let him finish it, since it really didn't hurt that much.
When he was finally finished, I really regretted it a lot because my symmetry was totally destroyed, so I went in a week later to get a band around my other ankle. I really needed my symmetry restored. But Tim was on vacation for a week. I regretted that because I was really needing to get my body fixed, right then. I was obsessed because I was going to have to live with being asymmetrical for another whole week!
So I went back the next Friday, two weeks after my first regrettable tattoo. Tim got the stencil ready and put it on and got started. I regretted it very soon after he started. It hurt a little. And I could not believe I was letting him do this to me again! But when he finished, I was Very Happy. I had a tiger chasing his tail around my right ankle. No Regrets.
So I started planning my next piece. I wanted Picasso's Don Quixote on my back, one of my twenty-something year tattoo fantasies. I took a copy to Tim to discuss size and such issues with him. I wanted a Full Back. Tim thought I was kidding. No way would I do anything that big as my third tattoo. So I went to the other artists I had plagued for months about my first tat. Nobody seemed to take me seriously, and I think they were pissed that I had allowed some other artist to do my first two tattoos. So I went back to Tim. He said he could draw something for me that would be much better that what I had! I told him, "Man, this is fucking Picasso! You cannot improve on Picasso!" So I was pissed and I left.
But I kept carrying my Don Quixote around with me (along with a stack of tattoo magazines). My God really has a cool sense of humor. I went to Albuquerque, NM, with a friend a few months later. He was driving my car down a main street when he saw a tattoo shop. They did cosmetic and other tattooing. He said, "I know what we can do tonight, let's get a tattoo!" He already had one large piece on his right bicep but he did not know I had my two little ankle bands. So I said, "Hey, Yep, that might be fun!" and then I started laughing. He wanted to know what I thought was so damned funny. I told him I would show him when we got to the hotel. We went to the room; I pulled off my boots and socks; dug out my Picasso and the magazines; rolled up my pants; and showed him my ankles and my Picasso drawing. I told him I would get Don Quixote tattooed tonight if he was up for it and I new just the shop: Route 66!
He couldn't believe it! Nobody who knows me ever thinks I am that kind of a guy that would get a tattoo. But away we went and found the shop and met up with Fernando. He loved the Don Quixote idea and I was pumped, ready to get it done right then. But he had to make a stencil (actually in four pieces) and said he would have it ready the next day. So my buddy got a wonderful Marilyn Monroe on his shoulder that night and we went back to the hotel very happy. No regrets. We laughed a lot that night.
Next morning I was at the shop waiting for Fernando. He had the stencil ready. It took forever to get it all on my back, lining up the four pieces correctly. When we were both satisfied with the outline, he got started. After about an hour I started really regretting it. Especially down my spine and over the kidneys. As the fourth hour of the session approached, I was REALLY regretting the whole tattoo. But the outlining was soon finished. It took about four and a half hours, and I realized I had regretted almost every minute of it. But it was finished and I did not regret it at all anymore. You know how the tattoo process works: the pain stops as soon as the needle stops violating your skin.
So my tattoo buddy and I laughed about our unplanned tattoo trip all the way home. In fact we still laugh about it almost every time we get together now. We both really Do Not Regret Our Tattoos!
But I soon started to regret that my tattoo was not finished. I regretted that tattoo so much that about three weeks later I went back for another three or so more hours of work. This was solid work, filling in the outline, no shading, in pure black. I regretted almost every minute of it. It hurt. Since Albuquerque is about 350 miles from my home, I regretted having to drive back there again about six weeks later to get it finished. I regretted another four hours of hard tattooing. I regretted another four hours of pain. But when it was finished and I had Don Quixote on my back, I didn't regret it at all any more. I loved it.
But in a week or so I started to regret it. It was on my back and I couldn't see it except when I looked in a mirror. And since I almost always wear a shirt, I regretted that everyone else couldn't see it. Except my wife. I knew she could see it a lot. But she NEVER said ANYTHING about it. I wondered if she regretted it, but I didn't ask. I wondered about a lot of things in those days but never asked anything.
I regretted my back piece a lot, every day. I regretted it so much that I wanted another tattoo that I could see. I wanted an eagle on my chest (another of my long-time tattoo fantasies). I wanted something I could see so I wouldn't regret having something I couldn't see after spending all of that pain and money. And so I started looking for the perfect eagle. I wanted it BIG. So I started the tattoo shop tour again. Of course the artists regretted all of my questions and annoyingly repetitious visits. But I finally decided I wanted Mike to do it and we settled on a design. A BIG eagle, shoulder to shoulder, from my clavicles to the bottom of my sternum. Then I decided I wanted to sample Mike's work before I trusted him to cover my entire chest, so I got him to do a small piece on my upper right arm. I regretted it some while he was doing it, but it wasn't too bad. In fact I really liked it when it was done.
I didn't regret any of my tattoos at that time, but I think my wife did. Less than two months later, I told my wife I was leaving her. She said she was sure that "On the Inside you must be the same nice guy I married," but "You sure are Different On the Outside." YEP, I knew it all the time! SHE did regret my tattoos (and probably my beard too, but that is another story). But I didn't. I was fifty-one years old; I had been married twenty-three years; and I ran away from home. No regrets!
So a week later Mike started on my eagle. I didn't regret it at first. But when he got over to the sternum, I regretted the hell out of it! After about three hours of outlining, my regret level was going through the fucking roof! But when he was finished, I didn't regret it at all. Then we had two more sessions working on shading the wings, which were somewhat regrettable. But the last session with the eagle was all down the center of my chest. I have never regretted anything so much in my life as I did having my sternum tattooed. But when it was finished, I was very proud to have a very proud eagle on my chest. No regrets!
In fact I did have one regret. Remember, I had that piece Mike put on my right arm for me to test him. In my excitement over getting my eagle, I had not realized that I was not symmetrical again. So Mike had to put one on the left arm to restore my symmetry again. So it was done and once more I had no regrets. I had six tattoos done within the first year of getting my body colored. I was happy! I had no regrets for about ten months.
After awhile I started regretting that I had not been tattooed for several months. I had found the perfect design that would make a great front piece. It would cover the whole front, neck to waist. But I already had the eagle covering the top third of that area. Shit, I really regretted that eagle! It screwed up my canvass for the piece I really wanted on my front. But I worked with Mike to cut the design down to fit the available space and it would be wonderful. So we went to work on it. I regretted it for hours, eight sessions in fact. I really regretted it when Mike was working on my ribs. I wanted to cry a few times, I regretted it so much. But it was awesome when it was finished.
I was so happy then with my tattoos that I wanted more. So Mike put an arm band around my left arm. It really did not hurt much. But after it was finished, I looked at it and thought, "Damn! I really regret that. My symmetry is screwed again." That sucked so much that less than a week later I had to have one on the other arm. Then I had no more regrets (again).
Soon I started regretting all of my tattoos, though. I now had nine tattoos. That is just too damned many tattoos on one guy. I had never really wanted more than one when I started this, but I am an addict and I seemed always to be in need of another ink fix and now I had all of these tattoos and I regretted them. I especially regretted that I had two on my front: an eagle on my chest and a big fantasy piece on my stomach and a lot of blank, virgin skin in the middle, from one side to the other. I really regretted those two tattoos. There was not but one solution: fill up all of that regrettable blank space! So I got the idea to have a flock of pegasuses flying across my chest to tie the eagle with the fantasy piece below, with shading to fill in all of the blank spaces. The whole job took six sessions. I regretted it almost from the start, since a lot of this job was on extremely sensitive areas: my ribs and around my nipples. Some of it was really, painfully, reg rettable. But when it was finished, on a Thursday evening, I was one happy tattoo aficionado! I had just one back piece and one front piece on my torso.
By Saturday, two days later, I was regretting all of my tattoos again. Looking in the mirror, I realized that I still hated having so many tattoos. I had one covering the entire front of my torso and two on each arm. I regretted having five tattoos to look at every time I looked at my shirtless body. Only one thing to do about that. So Mike had to turn those five tattoos into one. It took one session to fill in the area from my right arm band around the other arm piece to connect to the eagle. I really regretted that when he was finished, since it of course ruined my symmetry again. But a week later, the other arm was completed, symmetry was once again restored, and all of my regrets were obliterated! And I didn't have so damned many tattoos! Now I have only four, whereas two months ago I had nine. Reducing the number of tattoos really did reduce my regrets about having to live with my tattoos for the rest of my life!
It has been a week now. I really do regret my tattoos. Again. I have nothing but blank skin from my waist down to my ankles (Well, that is not exactly true, but I think you know what I mean). Three tattoos on both front and back, with my long white legs separating my big torso and back tattoos from those poor distant lonely little ankle bands. It will take a long time to fix that. I really regret that.
But what I regret the most is my back piece. I really hate that. That is my favorite tattoo and it is on my back, and I will NEVER be able to see it without looking in a mirror. I really regret that tattoo. I think I will always leave it separate from the rest of my tattoo. Don Quixote deserves that. Someday I will probably only have two tattoos, since four is way too many, and I only wanted one when I started getting myself covered in all of this regrettable tattooing. But I know for a fact that having Don Quixote on my back, where I can't even see my favorite work of art, is truly something that
I AM GOING TO REGRET FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. The funny thing to me is that all of my life I have heard the expression, "I got Stewed, Screwed, and Tattooed." Lots of guys aparently use that as the excuse for getting tattooed. I had been wanting to get tattooed for many years, while I was getting stewed on a daily basis. Not until I had been clean and sober for over a year and a half did I finally acquire the courage to do it! I regret only that I waited all those years before following my dreams.