I have 5 tattoos.
I got them all within a year of turning 40.
I’d go to Reno to visit my sister and I’d come back with a new tattoo.
The last tattoo I got was a watercolor butterfly on my foot.
It got infected. . .
. . .on account of me going in my sister’s hot tub RIGHT AFTER I got the tattoo.
My sister ripped me a new one.
And the process of clearing up the cellulitis was awful.
I thought my foot was going to fall off.
At work, I usually keep my tattoos covered up.
I don’t put them on display like I do at Burning Man or Burning Man events.
Remember that one time I shoved my crotch in a man’s face in order to show him my hip tattoos?
Yeah, I’m more subtle about it now.
Today I accidentally left for work in a sundress and to my surprise I had no sweater in my truck.
So I’m sitting in my cube, minding my own business when a coworker walks by.
“Nice tattoo. What is it? A heart?”
It’s actually a heart with an infinity symbol, meaning eternal love.
And it’s my only tattoo I dislike on account of it reminding me of the man I was with when I got it and was all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed about being in love.
Ah, eternal love.
As it turns out, eternal love only lasts until another woman comes along.
Needless to say, I won’t be wearing sleeveless tops to work anymore.
See. . . I’m learning to be subtle.
My other tattoos are: