So this is the tattoo I got Tuesday night. It is exactly what I wanted and couldn't have turned out better. Lucas at Electra Art did an awesome job. It is also the cause of the worst birthday I have had in my 28 years. Allow me to explain.
As anyone who reads this blog regularly knows, I have planned on getting this tat for months. Tiff and I decided to make it my birthday present to me. Tiff has three tats of her own and it was high time I got at least one. We took our time finding the right artist and finally scheduled it for Tuesday night. I counted the seconds.
Tuesday morning Tiff was too sick to go to work and went to the doctor. She had somehow contracted the worst case of Texas quick-step ever. The doctor hooked her up with some drugs and as far as I knew, the problem had ebbed. I was set to drop Jasmine with her mom for visitation.
Tattoo time rolls around and I am headed to drop off Jasmine. I was stoked like you would not believe. I called Tiff to ask if she was ready and she drops a bombshell. She said something to the effect of, "I can't go tonight, can you re-schedule?"
My week was already booked solid so it would have to be next Monday at earliest. I had cash for the tat but the way things work in our house I couldn't entirely trust that would be the case for long. So I made a judgment call. Some might say bad call and you may be right. I went anyway and got the tat. To be entirely honest I really didn't want anyone there looking over my shoulder when I got it. I was mildly relieved that no one was coming along.
I knew Tiff really wanted to be there and knew I would catch some flak for going alone. For me it was a birthday destroyer no matter which way I went. I could please Tiff by re-scheduling and run the risk of not getting the tat at all or be a little selfish and get my gift to me on my own terms. Right or wrong, I thought I deserved a little leeway seeing as it was my birthday and I rarely do anything that is just for me. I rationalized that Tiff goes to the spa and otherwise does things for herself on special occasions, why can't I do this one thing to celebrate a year of such great change for me? I deserve to be a little bit selfish without major retribution, right?
Apparently not. Apparently spoiling myself without permission is an offence worthy of the silent bitchy treatment, even on my birthday. In fact the only conversations I had with my wife on my birthday ended in "You're such an asshole." I was wished a happy birthday by everyone but my wife. I spent the evening of my birthday home alone with only a bottle of Cuervo Especial, some beer, and Spike TV to keep me company. Happy fucking birthday to me. Whether or not I deserved it I will leave my readers to decide.