My tattoo has almost stopped itching. Just over two weeks ago, Lisa and I got swarthy tattoos for our birthdays. We thought we should both get the same present because we have the same birthday. Hers is of a bee just above her elbow.
Although some people have insisted that my tattoo is a portrait of their face on the tip of my genitals, that spits like a cherub fountain in the lush gardens of aristocrats, it is not. My tattoo is a shark fighting a chimp. The chimp is swinging a dead pterodactyl as a weapon. The shark isn’t swinging a weapon because sharks don’t have thumbs. But my shark has mean and gnarly teeth. And he also has a bloody eye.
During the first week we rubbed our tattoos nightly with salt and booze. After about the first week, Lisa noticed that hers wasn’t healing quite right. Her bee wings healed nicely, but her bee body started to crack and swell. A scabby ridge formed on one of the bee’s black stripes.
“What if it’s infected?” she said.
“I bet its just because you move it around a lot,” I said. “It doesn’t look right though.”
“I know. Do you think it could be infected?”
“No. Did the cat scratch it? It looks like a big scratch. It’s kind of canyon-like, isn’t it?”
“How come yours looks so perfect and mine is all fucked up?” She was getting worried. “I bet it’s infected.”
I didn’t know. It could have been for all I knew. Internet.
Some of the pictures we saw on the Internet looked like oily purple volcanoes. We gagged. Hers definitely wasn’t infected. But we agreed to keep an eye on it just to be sure.
Staph infections can ruin your tattoo. Just imagine spending $350 on beautiful tattoos just to watch them break apart and explode all over you like little Mt. Vesuviuses.
We’re married and bored and don’t have much to do anymore, so we got to thinking how she would possibly hide a ruined tattoo on her elbow. She said she wouldn’t want to cover it up with an actual tattoo of Mt. Vesuvius, so we decided that the only thing she could possibly do is wear long sleeves for the rest of her life. We would have to move to Wisconsin.
So let this be a lesson to you. Do not let the tattooist use a needle with gunk on it. Or else you could become infected and have to live in the cold with the cows.