hey, i just realized that this month marks the 7th anniversary of my very first tattoo. i cute, happy purpley daisy under my right collarbone. i was so young. 21. it was spring break and everyone was gone. . . somewhere warm and fun. amy skal and i were stuck in eau claire. we decided to go see a liz phair concert to make johnson jealous. i can’t remember where he’d ventured off to on spring break. but skal and i decided to take a mini road trip to minneapolis. then to make things really exciting we got us some tattoos. i remember standing in front of a pay phone in city center looking up tattoo parlors in the phone book. we ripped the page out of the book and walked down nicolet to catch a bus.
i was terrified. skal was all calm, cool and collected. the guy who tattooed us was called alien. i am not kidding, he had business cards and everything. alien. his wife was expecting a baby. if it was a girl they were gonna name it alieanna or something like that. we chuckled. leaving the tattoo joint, bandaged up and on a total adrenaline high skal said, “he’d have given these to us free if one of us gave him head.”
we caught a cab back to first ave, in time to catch liz phair. walking upstairs to the bar skal was carded by the id checker boy. he was hot. as i stood behind skal, he checked her i.d. and said, “hey jodi. how’s it going?” i was stunned that this luscious lipped babe knew me. of course, he made me guess who he was and i failed miserably. seems he was a boy i went to high school with. we had worked together on the student newspaper. he’d finally outgrew his baby fat. yummy. what a night!
so we were standing upstairs drinking fosters and listening to la liz. when this guy comes up to me and asks me how i feel about politics and religion. an interesting come on line. of course being the naive idiot that i was (and pretty much still am), i had no idea the guy was hitting on me until skal pulled me aside and informed me. gah! of course that made me all nervous and i didn’t know what to say. he begged me to let him take me out to dinner. i was dumbfounded. nobody ever hit on me before in my entire life. he gave me his number, i didn’t ever call him.
and i don’t know why i am writing all this out. it’s just funny how one night can stick so firmly, clearly in my memory. i still remember what i was wearing that night. some swank khaki bell-bottomed pants and the wonderful red couch sweater. it was dubbed the couch sweater because it had all these tassely things around the bottom. i wonder whatever happened to that sweater.
so yeah, i got a tattoo out of boredom. i am silly. what’s funny is that for as naive and innocent i feel now. i look back at my 21-year-old self and think, “Gah she was SO young.” memories are goofy.