so last weekend i was contacted by a journalist who is writing a story about superhero tattoos, specifically Superman tattoos. she had a bunch of questions asking me what it means to me, whether i was happy with it, why i choose it, and what kind of reaction/feedback i get about it.

i have absolutely no idea what to say. my biggest memory of getting my Superman S was a man named Taki who was in a wheelchair, and who worked at the tattoo shop. Taki didn’t give me the tattoo, a man whose name i can’t seem to remember inked me. but it was so painful that i wanted to stop or cry, or both. but i remmeber laying on my back, while the tattoo guy drilled and Taki wheeling next to me, and just talking aimlessly about Superman and the Superman comics.

“it’ll be okay,” he said. “just keep breathing and talking to me.”

i have no idea what i said, i don’t even remember what he said, i just remember him sitting there next to my head and talking and talking and talking.

when it was all over, i sat up and was a little horrified at the blood that had pooled on the tops of my breasts. that’s just a site you never expect to see in your life.

“you really are a bleeder,” the tattoo guy said to me.
“i know,” i said.
“i remember that from last time,” he said, pointing to my right foot. a few months earlier he had tattooed a burning star on my right shin. i had bled so much he asked me if i was drunk. i told him that i wasn’t drunk, but i would be in a few hours.

i stood up in the tattoo shop with my bleeding chest and the tattoer ran to get a camera.
“i have to take a picture of this for my book,” he said. “nobody’s gonna believe that i tattooed the Superman S on a girl’s chest.”i just kept blotting at the blood and trying to clean it up while he snapped away.

afterward, i headed out to the bar with my friend Anderla. she thought it was the coolest thing ever. i remember showing my friend Goetz, who was obsessed. “did you have to take off your shirt? did you take off your bra?” i think he asked those two questions over and over and over again until i punched him. i never answered the question.

but is that the kind of thing that would make for an interesting article? i have no idea. i’ve overheard people talk about the tattoo. but i can’t seem to remember any kind of specific reaction.

so the question is, what do i tell this journalist? what would you say if it were your tattoo?