That’s what happens to our girl Esther.
It took two weeks to make the decision to get one, but once her mind was made up Esther had to spend another full hour selecting the absolute best image to have inked on her skin.
What she could not say, however, was why, exactly, she wanted a tattoo in the first place. Like having a tooth removed: It’s forever.
Meaningful, Esther rationalized. Proclaims my individuality. Weren’t Tattoo Tony and Tattoodles oodles and oodles of fun? Didn’t Janis have one? Mom wouldn’t like it. Billy wants me to get one. A gift, my gift to Billy. Besides, everyone else is getting them. Does it hurt? No, she was told. Not really. Just a mosquito bite. But once you sit for one, you’ll want another.
She did not understand why that was.
When at last she worked up the courage, she stood in the confined room of a tiny tattoo parlor on Haight Street and tried to decide on a design.
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She sorted through sample sheets of thin paper imprinted with cartoon characters, clouds, fire and lightening, stylized lettering in Cyrillic, serif and Roman alphabets, idealized images of the sun, moon and stars, ornate butterflies, bees and flowers until she ultimately picked one out, the red lips from the Stones’ Sticky Fingers album, as her image of choice.
One of Billy’s favorite discs, she thought as she removed the paper from its cellophane wrapping.
BUY STORY NOW for $1.
- This story is one of three illustrated in the comic book
Haight Street Stories, available for only $5, S & H included ($6 outside the U.S.A.).