Decades ago, I was a small child sitting in a doctor’s waiting room. Next to me was an old man. I’d guess he had himself tattooed during the second world war. I tried my best to make out what the tattoo was about, what it might have said, or even what color it might have been. It appeared blurred. I figured that when it was new, and his skin taut, it might have been a circle with words around it. Probably a Marine symbol. I realized that if I ever got a tat it would eventually age like this. Then, I thought what kind of tat I might have gotten when I was younger, probably Mickey Mouse. I would have been horrified of that tat at my then present age. I realized that tattoos were a horrible idea.
I see people all over today with tats. I can only imagine how they will feel when tat’s go out of style. As, it seems, they are.
While watching a coworker with a particularly bad tat walk past, a friend casually observed, “You know, when I retire I’ll learn to remove tattoos. Bet I’ll never lack for business.”
Remember kids, that cute little butterfly on your breast today, will become a condor on your sagging boob when you hit 70
I was going to put a tattoo to honor my ex wife and my stepsons, but I never did. Mrs D would hate it...I’m glad I didn’t get a tat...or a piercing...