The Tale of the Penis tattoo.....

I hope this doesn't loose too much in the translation. Every time I tell this story in person I get huge laughs. (tough I have only told 4 people).
SO here goes.

After our long night and morning at the Hard Rock Casino. We slept late. (duh) But there were plans for the day. Jennifer (see pic in Everything Begins with A Beginning) wanted to go get a tattoo. Of course since we were in Miami...We loaded up the two separate cars and headed to Miami Beach. Home of...You guessed it, Miami Ink.

Though I am aware of the show, I have never watched a second of it. So I had no particular feelings one way or another about getting a tattoo there. I had been thinking for quite some time about getting another one but was unsure as to what exactly. I discussed my feelings with my car mates (Kimmy V and Brad) Brad being a very sensitive and creative guy thought on it for about 5 minutes then suggested I get a footprint because of my fascination with my feet. Those of you who know me need no explanation. Those of you who don't need only go to the 'Feet on Parade' photo album on my picture trail link. This, I thought, was a brilliant idea. I would get a foot print in a dark blue 'Earth' color first,then I would research the perfect word for 'one who wanders' and get that added to it later. I was kind of excited.

Once we got to Miami and paid a million bucks to park, we started on foot to Miami Ink. We had to ask directions a few times...I felt like a total tourist...Then again...We were tourists so who cares!

The joint has an unassuming facade. One almost wouldn't even know it was a tattoo parlour were it not for the confluence of alternatively dressed and openly pierced men loitering around.

We had to wait a bit before anyone came to help us (and there were a lot of us) I assume this was a strategy to weed out the curious. Brad, Jennifer and I were the only ones who were getting tattoos (though I was still not convinced) When I did speak to someone and he told me the price....I said OH HELL NO! $150 - $200 for a foot print. Not bloody likely. Now I am not one to put a price on art. I completely understand the whole creative process. But I'm not asking for a portrait...Just a stupid little foot. I said NO.

Kim Vanbrunt said she would give me some cash and I could put the rest on my card. Brad reiterated 'now you can say you got a tat at Miami ink' It didn't mean much to me really....But...When in Rome right? (besides, I would have a story to tell...I just didn't know how much of a story) SO! I forked over Kimmy V's cash and a card of my own and sat and waited for my 'artist' to be ready for me.



My guy sounded a bit dubious about it.
'You want a foot???!!!'
But he drew it out for me. I asked for a toe ring, he agreed to it and we were in business. As you can maybe tell in the pic, I got it at the nape of my neck. I hurt like a mother. As you might know, after a while the pain was kind of cleansing in a masochistic way. My guy was getting into it. I heard him laughing and saying
"This looks awesome! The toe ring came out great!" That made me happy. When we were done he showed it to me. It looked like it could be a foot...Once it healed. So I said thanks and traipsed on my merry way. I still wasn't convinced that I needed a tattoo, but there was no going back now.

Later that night as we were all preparing for bed (I was staying in the same hotel as the Kims) It was time to take off the bandages and inspect the 'art'. I took mine off and stood with my back to everyone waiting for the verdict. It was strangely silent. Brad broke the silence.
"It's a penis."
His wife and my friend immediately admonished him "BRAD!!!!" and tried to reassure me "NO it doesn't!"
"Yes it does...Look" I heard Kim shush him "there are the balls and the tip." he defended himself as he giggled a little.
I felt the blood rush to my head. I ran to the bathroom. Kim saying behind me "Meghan it really doesn't"
"Mirror please" was all I said. I stood with my back to the mirror dreading looking. pleaseopleaseoplease don't let it look like a penis. To my horror, it most sincerely did. (unfortunately I don't have a pic...Cause it's funny now) The foot was there...but it was his 'artistic' shading that conveyed the perverted undertones. Think of the balls of your feet as just that with the heel of your foot as the head. Because you have an arch in your foot, the side of a foot print is a narrow shaft with a bulbus end to it....curving to the right. Did you remember the tat was blue? ARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!
Talk about buyers regret. Not a damn thing I could do about it. I was inconsolable for about 30 minutes. It became the elephant in the room that everyone was looking at but no one would talk about.

That night I didn't sleep well. The tattoo was still a bit sore so made its depraved presence known to me while I slept on my back. Sleeping on my stomach didn't help either. I knew it was there. All I could think about was my 'artist' no wonder he was laughing.

The morning came with new clarity. I would just go back and have him fix it. However I had to work and I was going home that following weekend. The penis would just have to wait. Needless to say I told no one what I did that weekend.

When I went home for the weekend I had a few beers and ended up telling two friends of my paint faux pas. I don't think I've heard them laugh so hard, EVER! I was then dubbed 'penis back' for the remainder of the night and all the next day as we watched the Broncos get their asses beat in the Superbowl playoff thingy (I think they got beat by Pittsburgh) What could I do. I actually WAS a penis back.

Back in Miami I had to wait another week before I could go off to Miami Ink and be 're-touched' (which may be a bad word choice) I was dreading it. This time I had to go alone. I waited until Sunday afternoon. Shyly I approached the plain building. There weren't as many people there this time. I stood at the desk, not quite knowing what to say. A guy comes up to me.
"What can I do for you?" I told him how I got a tattoo here two weeks ago and it isn't quite what I wanted.
"What did you want?" he instantly sounded annoyed. I sheepishly told him that I wanted a foot and got a penis.
"Let me see the tattoo." I bowed my head forward much like someone would if they were preparing it for the guillotine.
"Ma' am' would you move your hair!" Oh shit...I'm all of a sudden a ma'am. This can't be good. "Who did your tattoo?!'"he demanded. I didn't know his name...but I did have his pic. So I pulled out my camera and showed him. It looked like the guy standing in the corner.
"OK, go stand over there we'll have someone come out to help you." I nervously stood, looking at the guy who I thought was my 'artist'. Some other guy comes out this time.
"Can I help you?"
I said I would like to have my tattoo re (em) touched.
"Let me see the tattoo." I presented the offending ink.
"And what's wrong it?" He said defensively.
"It's a penis on my back. That is not where I usually like my penises to be.' I replied. He didn't laugh.
"When did you get this done?" he asked.
"Two weeks ago." I said again.
"YOU HAVE TO WAIT LONGER THAN THAT TO RE DO IT!!!"
"I don't live here.....please!!!!" I begged.
About that time my 'artist' came over and said something like 'Hey...what's up...I remember you.' I told him my sad tale. He took one look at the tat and started cracking up.
"OH my god...I did draw a penis on you!!! Come on girl I'll fix you up."
The blood came back to my face at that point. I said a silent prayer both of thanks and one that he doesn't render his 'artistic' eye in a new way on my back.
Once I sat down, he told his ink mate,
"Hey dude, look what I gave this chick...a penis!" His mate leaned over and said...
"Yep and it leans to the right no less" Then I added...
"Don't forget the cock ring" My 'artist' looked in closer and let out a big gaffaw when he remembered the toe ring. He was totally cool about it but the others in the 'gallery of rogues' kept looking our way.
"Hey (forgot his name) I thought you didn't do re-touches"
"Only this one time." He replied.
Once he was done filling in the foot, he let me look at it again. Not like I would be able to distinguish the subtle shading under all the blood. So I said
"Yeah that will be good."
He said "Yes it is." in a way that told me he would not 'fix' it again.
I gratefully skipped out of there. NEVER TO RETURN. I haven't really looked at it since. Others have told me that there are no phantom penises on my back. That's good enough for me right now.
Now I'm not going to say don't go to Miami Ink. Brad and Jennifer had a great experience and my 'artist' was kinda cool about it all. But make no mistake, they are defiantly full of themselves there. Be prepared to pay exorbitant prices for even the smallest of tats. Mine was just a wee foot of one color.
Thus ends that story.....but wait...I've not yet left Flordia. There is one more story to tell.