Jennifer Lea writes for jlogged.com, and is co-owner of 
A True Story
Back in the year nineteen hundred and ninety three a high school junior and her best friend cleverly altered their drivers licenses, issued to them by the fine state of Texas, with a bottle of white out and a fine tip pen. They then skipped AP English, hopped into a honda CRX, and jammed to the sound of teen angst smashing pumpkins all the way to a shady tattoo shop on the other side of town. (A shop that would later be shut down, and was rumored to be the source of a hepatitis outbreak. Oh, and they also tattooed underaged minors.) These girls were the epitome of cool and grown up. They were going to get stamped. Proper tattooed. Yes sir.
They picked their designs out of a notebook within moments sure that the classic art would be timeless, and that they would never tire of gazing upon an angel and an infinity symbol. Yup.
One of them tried to hide her tattoo with a band-aid, but that lasted all of two days before her mom came into her room while she was getting dressed for school. The mom’s eagle eye zoomed in like the scope of a surgical sniper on her red, and neopsorin slathered ankle, and five seconds later her entire family was gathered around her country blue swathed daybed pointing and jeering at the tattoo of doom. Her mom was already removing her swatch phone, and threatening to take out the T.V. too. Grounded she was. Grounded for life evermore. And at 31, as far as her mom is concerned her daughter is still grounded for making such a rash decision. Â
And so the sad tale of the faded, craptastic tat continues. Because now that same foolish youth is having to shell out big bucks to get this done to her leg:
Look close and you can see the bubbly remains, where her skin has endured two laser tattoo removal treatments. It involves needles, and funny goggles, and an unpleasant crackling sound. Much worse than the initial tattoo. But, at least the esthetician’s office is right down the street from the Alamo Draft house. So, it’s not all that bad I suppose. It’s not like she did this:
You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
June 22nd, 2008 at 11:58 am
Oh dear God, I look at those tattooed legs and all I can think is owwww. Adulthood is so boring.
June 22nd, 2008 at 1:36 pm
And it’s a good thing she didn’t do that because man alive that would hurt - twice (once getting it and then getting it removed.
June 22nd, 2008 at 7:16 pm
Great story… Yea!! It’s funny how we can remember the exact music that was playing during our teenage rebellion. I totalled my car listening to Guns N Roses “Appetite for Destruction.”
June 23rd, 2008 at 9:31 am
That’s so hot. I wonder what her beer gut looks like.
June 23rd, 2008 at 4:03 pm
LOL - I can’t believe you had a phone and a TV in your freaking room! My parents actually removed my bedroom DOOR claiming only “good obedient children” were entitled to privacy! And I didn’t even come close to getting tattooed!
Well, I mean, I did, of course, but I was a legal adult.
June 23rd, 2008 at 5:06 pm
No door? That’s harsh man.
I would never, ever want to be a teenager again. Ever. Or even 20 for that matter.
June 24th, 2008 at 10:20 am
I love the door trick, and I plan on using it if my kids get out of line.
June 25th, 2008 at 2:34 pm
yeah no door was my favorite part - right before I RAN AWAY - factor that into your parenting plan.
June 26th, 2008 at 9:09 am
Tracee *pats head* he’s kidding. It’s all good…no one’s loosing their door.
June 30th, 2008 at 2:43 pm
ouch…
i waited a year before i got my first tattoo. i figured if i still really wanted it after a year, i wouldn’t mind having it for the rest of my life. i’m still debating the 2nd tattoo though…
i know i won’t ever have the nerve to have it removed!!