Spontaneity!

Tonight I thought I was just going to have a calm, mellow Tuesday, but boy was I wrong. My night started with grabbing a happy hour drink with B. Then I went to see Client Boy briefly before he went to a concert and meet his roommate, who had been out of the country for a month, which was why we had never met before. As I was leaving, B texted me to come back to the bar and meet her because we were going somewhere.

Assuming that we were going to another bar or she wanted to go dancing or something, I went to meet her. When I asked her where we were going, she smiled mischievously and told me, "I want to get a tattoo. We're going to go get me a tattoo." I was taken aback momentarily and then responded, "Ok, where should we go that will still be open?" If I know one thing, it's that after B has set her mind to something, there's no talking her out of it.

This was how B and I ended up wandering around the East Village, drunk, looking for an open tattoo parlor that didn't look like it would give her hepatitis. We finally found a reputable place that was still open and as we leafed through the artists' books, I decided in the moment that I wanted a tattoo too.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting in the chair, squinting in pain, and trying not to flinch because that would permanently mar the tattoo I would be stuck with forever. Of course, this wasn't before one of the greatest moments of my life: B sitting in the chair in complete pain as she got the sensitive part of her foot tattooed, in her bra (she was having hot flashes so she took her shirt off), and singing the Dixie Chicks at the top of her lungs while she listened to her iPod and clutched my hand. The tattoo artist and I just looked at each other and shook our heads, trying not to laugh too hard.

Thank goodness I woke up this morning, looked at the tattoo, and loved it. I sent a picture to my little sister E and she said she loves it and was kind of jealous. It was the best response I could have hoped for, since I'm stuck with it, well forever.