Monday, 5 October 2009

Tatoo, Too Much

There I was, fiddling with my floatie belt in a somewhat geriatric-populated water aerobics class when I spied a large, dark pink splotch on the shoulder blade of a woman who had acquired a certain patina, shall we say.  She looked 70 if she was a day, so I pitied the poor soul, who had probably undergone an unpleasant laser treatment or skin biopsy for an affliction ending in "oma."   The instructor called out to paddle into a circle formation during the last minute of "Disco Inferno," and I found myself bobbing behind the "oma."  Imagine my surprise to find that upon closer scrutiny, her affliction was a recently inked pink elephant that took up far too much real estate on her left shoulder blade.  I looked away, but not in time.  She sloshed on and splashed me in the face with her floaty water dumbell.  At least I was blinded and spared from further visual assault.

I cannot help but notice the prevalence and social acceptance of tatoos in the UK.  They don't carry nearly the stigma of the docks as they do in the U.S.  My gentle readers by now can figure out by now that of the two schools of thought on tatoos, I am firmly enrolled in Anti Tramp Stamp U.  Not only are they permanent signs of a temporary fancy, but what sounds like a fine idea in youth after a few drinks in time turns into a shapeless blob.  I mean the tatoo, not its wearer.  I met a gentleman just yesterday who looked perilously close to retirement, but the tatoos all up and down his forearms should have retired years ago.  One blob looked like a ladies handbag.  Could he have foreseen or wanted that effect?  There is probably a course in psychological training where one can interpret deep issues by staring into amoebic tatoos on pensioners.

I knew a girl in college who was particularly proud of a small Kermit the Frog she had gotten tatooed just above her hip bone.  Aside from the subject matter, it was at least in a place not visible, and small.  Women with tatoos that I've personally observed seem obsessed with showing the world their poor judgement.  A girl pouring drinks at a pub turned to get a bottle as I noticed she had prominently displayed bat wings tatooed on her back.  Aren't there easier and cheaper ways to look like Satan's minions?

In sum, down with tramp stamps, regardless of your nationality.  If this is the land of the tea cozy, why can't some gran knit a tatoo cozy?  I know it won't be the lady sporting the pink elephant.

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