Tatted Up
01.15.2017
I mean, not literally tatted up, but who cares. The title fit.
Friday, January 13th, 2017 I got my first tattoo.
I went to work at 3:30 PM and left there about 7:30ish to get to the tattoo parlor by 8:15 PM.
The tattoo parlor, Ink Asylum, was running a $20 tattoo special for Friday the 13th.
I figured, I don’t have any tattoos and I want one, and now’s a great time to get one.
I seen the post on my Facebook prior to Friday the 13th and that’s when I decided I would get the one that said warr;or. I wanted it for various reasons, which I’m not really going to go into right now because it’s not that important.
Anyways.
So, I got there at like 8 something, with my mom and Sam, and we were there for like five hours before I went back to get it done (Mom was getting one also, but this was like, her fifth one).
Back to the story.
This is my first tattoo. Like, ever.
Like, I’m afraid of needles and I cry when I get shots and I’m almost 20 years old.
There was only supposed to be one artist and one piercer all day long, but that changed when things were “simmering down” for the most part (there were 20 people in front of my mom and I).
The one artist seemed like the nicest guy on the entire planet. A sweetheart, really. He seemed really passionate about his job and even though he’d been working his ass off, at midnight he still seemed happy to be there, giving people pictures on their body they’d be going home with for the rest of their lives.
But okay, fast forward to my turn. Dude that’s doing my tattoo has been piercing and tattooing like all day, since like 1 PM and I didn’t get back there until 1 AM or 1:30 AM or something like that, I’m not really sure, I was done and out of there by 2 AM. I just know that I was tired as hell and I wanted to get out of there and go home since I had work at 11 and my mom had work at 7 the next morning.
So, we get back there. It’s me, my mom, and Sam.
I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never had a tattoo before and I didn’t know what to do at all. The artist is obviously tired and he’s angry at this point since he’s been there all day long.
That wasn’t my fault. I get it though; you’ve been here all day and you want to go home. I get it.
It wasn’t a great experience at all. I felt like he was rushing me through everything. He didn’t seem very nice. He was in a rush to get my tattoo done and get out of there.
He made me feel like I was a burden, honestly. He was in a rush to go home to his family.
I get it, but he didn’t have to make me feel like I wasn’t welcome there.
BACK TO THE TATTOO.
First of all, I’m almost 10000% positive that when you get a tattoo anywhere, that the artist is supposed to shave that particular part of your body.
Not mine, I guess.
So, he didn’t shave the part of my arm where I got the tattoo. Which is probably why it hurt more than I anticipated was because the tattoo gun was pulling my fucking arm hair.
Blah, blah, blah, then he put Vaseline on my arm to stick the stencil on and blah blah blah. I got up to see if it was straight in the mirror and it was so then I went back to the chair and then he started tattooing.
Meanwhile, I was squeezing Sam’s hand as much as I could. I was probably in the chair for like five or ten minutes and then it was done.
He wasn’t very reassuring that I was in good hands (it’s my first tattoo, you’re a complete stranger, and I’m scared as fuck). Everything was just moving so fast for me to even comprehend.
But whatever, my tattoo’s done and it’s my mom’s turn.
He didn’t change the needle.
Like, what the fuck?
Whatever though, it’s your shop, not mine, but it’s not ethical either way.
Anyway, my mom’s is done and then I’m sitting there bleeding to death.
I mean, I’m not bleeding to death, but I don’t like blood, and like, the letters are bleeding and I have no idea what to do, so I was pretty much bleeding to death.
You gave me a paper towel to soak up the blood.
We paid you, $50 – $20 per tattoo and a $10 tip.
You gave me no after care instructions. You just told me to use Aquaphor. You didn’t tell me how much, how to apply it, where to find it, or anything like that. You didn’t tell me anything I needed to know about getting my first tattoo.
You didn’t even wrap our tattoos up before we left the shop. I thought that was supposed to happen?
I guess it’s not supposed to happen at 2 in the morning.
So here I am, three days after letting you repeatedly stab me with a needle.
I’m assuming that I did something right with the combination of Lubriderm, A&D Ointment, and this cheap ass Family Dollar brand of Aquaphor because it seems to be healing fine.
It’s not red anymore and it doesn’t really hurt.
It looks good for a rushed ass job.
My mom’s on the other hand, will probably scar.
And you’re to blame because you were in such a rush to go home and see your family.
As a tattoo artist, your job is to make sure all of your customers go home with quality work they want to show off.
You should have known what you were getting into having a flash tattoo sale for $20 tattoos on a Friday night.
You could have done so many things differently.
You can have let everyone get one tattoo a piece, black and white only, and closed the doors earlier than you usually do.
Instead, you were hungry for the money.
I get that though.
But that doesn’t mean you had to take it out on your customers.
Because you were ready to go, my mom walked away with a shitty tattoo and I walked away with a terrible experience for my first tattoo.
So, thanks.
Thanks for making my experience awful.
I’ll probably never come back to your shop.
If I do, it most likely won’t be for you.
