The Bean Blog

A Valentine Tattoo

Feb 13, 2007 In the holiday spirit, Love & Marriage

Lee’s friend [who was the best man in our wedding...both times] used to be a supervisor at a local restaurant. This restaurant was a pretty upscale restaurant [at least what we consider upscale here in our neck of the woods]. Every year for our anniversary and Valentine’s Day, Lee and I went there for dinner. We chose that particular restaurant because we are really cheap and Lee’s friend always comped our meal for us. [Yes, we are so cheap we don't even splurge on our anniversary or Valentine's Day.]

I don’t remember exactly, but I think it was the Valentine’s Day after Lee and I got married. Lee and I went to the restaurant for our traditional Valentine’s Day dinner. This year we were joined by another couple; a childhood friend of Lee’s and his girlfriend [now wife]. Lee was in a bowling league with this couple and I found out at dinner that they were bowling that night. <sarcasm>Woo Hoo. I get to watch them bowl.<⁄sarcasm>

But Lee had something else up his sleeve. This year, instead of a Shop Vac, he got me a wonderful gift that I wanted for years and now cherish forever.

When I was a senior in high school, some friends and I took a trip to Iowa State University to attend Veisha. This was our pity trip because none of us had a date for prom. [Or in my case had been dumped right before prom by a total loser. Not that I harbor any ill will for him. It's been fifteen years and I have totally forgiven him....almost. ] This was back when they still allowed alcohol at the festivities and the year prior there had been riots during the celebration that almost canceled Veishea all together. It’s amazing that my dad let me go and stay in a hotel room all by myself [well with three other girls]. He was so trusting [because like I said, I was a good girl.]

So anyway [somehow I got way off track on this Valentine's Day post], on that trip to Veishea I decided I wanted to get a tattoo. I was being a teeny bit rebellious since I was just dumped by a jerk [oh, did I mention that already?]. All my friends thought that was dumb. No way would they ever get a tattoo. Plus I wasn’t old enough yet. I was still only seventeen. So I slumped back in the car and festered about my tattoo.

Fast forward five years and Lee and I were sitting in that booth at the restaurant with our friends on Valentine’s Day. Lee pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to me. It was yellow because it was from the yellow pages of the phone book. It was an ad for a tattoo shop. My Valentine’s Day present was a tattoo. A real live tattoo like the one I’d been dreaming of for more that five years.

A couple days later Lee and I headed to the local tattoo parlor where a nice man in all leather with a long gray beard poked needles filled with ink in to my ankle. I had heard that the ankle was a tender spot and hurt like hell when tattooed, but I thought it was fine. I winced maybe once or twice, but it more tickled than hurt. I went with a rose vine all the way around my ankle; the tattoo I had envisioned for years.

There’s a crappy picture I took of the tattoo today. I love it. Still to this day I love it [which is good since it's permanent ].

Oh, and those friends that were with me at Veishea…they all have tattoos now too. In fact they all got their tattoos before I got mine. I’m such a trend setter.

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