Okay, I've been putting off this post and trying not to write it, but here goes:
2 years ago my girlfriend and I wanted to do something crazy. She's a comptroller and like all accountants, *very* conservative. I suggested tattoos, and surprise, surprise, she said yes. We had a drink for Dutch courage (we were NOT drunk, however) and went to the studio. We picked out matching vines to go around our right ankles. She went first. She's a tough lady and sat through it. Than came my turn.
Now, I gotta point out here that I have an honest-to-God true psychological phobia of needles. Not a sissy "I don't like them" but I mean a "walk towards me with one, I get the shakes; point the thing at me I pass out; once I'm unconscious I throw up" God-freakin' FEAR of the damn things. But, the way to overcome a fear is to face it right? WRONG! My g/f decided that an Oriental dragon on the outside of my ankle with the vine going around would be more "manly" so the lady starts. I start to get the shakes, but try to gut it out. She does the dragon first, I get through that, and starts on the vine. (I gotta tell you: I'm getting queasy just writing about it!) Well, that's it: I feel it coming on. I ask the artist to hold up a minute, go into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face, come staggering out, and at this point I have no further recollection. I am told that I staggered for a few more steps, went down, twisted, hit my head on a desk, BROKE the friggin' desk, (I guess my head was harder than the mahogony) knocked myself unconscious, aside from fainting, and it took them 6 minutes to wake me up. They almost called 911. Once awake, I insisted that the artist continue, so the vine is half done when the artist thinks I'm getting pale again. She insists on stopping, so now I have a really cool Oriental dragon on the outside of my right ankle that looks like it's sh*tting out a vine. But I'm damn proud of it all the same.
..Joe
[This message has been edited by joegerardi (edited June 14, 1999).]