Me: (just hangin' out after a long day of working, not harming anybody, minding my own business, being awesome. The ususal.)
Random Guy: (Standing beside me, turned to face me sort of, obviously looking at my arm.)
Me: (Trying so hard to keep minding my own business)
Random Guy: (Talking to me, even though I'm turned away from him, body language = CLOSED FOR BUSINESS, listening to my iPod with those ubiquitous white earbuds.)
Me: (Sigh) Pardon me?
RG: Nice ink.
Me: Yeah. I know.
RG: Where'd you get that done? Here in town?
Me: Yeah. (Digs a Tattoo Zoo card out of my bag) Here, take a card.
RG: Mumble mumble full body suit?
Me: What? I'm working on it. (Laugh)
RG: But why the hell would you do that to yourself?
Me: (Puts mental boxing gloves on, because HELL NO) What do you mean?
RG: You know, it's never gonna come off.
Me: Yeah. I know. It's supposed to be like that.
RG: Is that even a real tattoo? (Still talking about my arm)
Me: Yes. (laughs)
RG: You're gonna have that for life, you know?
Me: Yeah.
RG: Why would you do that to yourself, kid?
Me: (WTF, this guy's like ten years older than me tops) Um...because I wanted to?
RG: Yeah well mumble mumble husband mumble mumble it's gonna be hard when you want to get married and get a family.
Me: No. You know what? (Stands up straight, looks him in his ignorant face) I have a family and we are doing just fine, actually.
RG: (Holds hands up in defensive posture) Woah woah woah no need to get angry.
Me: Yeah, well it's awful to be standing here, minding my own business and then some stranger comes up to me and starts saying things like that to me. It's very rude and it's hurtful.
RG: mumble mumble where'd you get that work done anyway? Here in town?
(At this time I realize he's totally drunk and it's useless to even waste my time, even though I had this full speech coming to me about how I was just at my full time job and I have a degree from a University now and what was he doing being drunk in the middle of the day on like a Monday anyway and who is he to judge me...etcetera.)
My bus came.
Me: That's my bus. (walks away with semi-threatening gesture, hoping he takes it as a warning for next time.)
RG: Yeah. (shouts after me) Good luck with all that ink.
Seriously guys. Yeah. I was so sad about it that on the bus I text-messaged my (female, tattooed) boss: D-bag @ the bus stop just basically asked me how i expect to get a man and have a family with all these tattoos.
Her reply?
Awwww fuck that guy in the neck. Did you ask him why he is so mean? Ask him if he's mad at his mom so he had to be mean to other women to compensate for his pencil dick. My standard response to guys like that is to furrow my brow and ask "what's wrong with you? Are you handicap(sic)? Learn some manners." When that fails I tell them to go get fucked. Feel free to use at your leisure. :)
Hahaha thanks Sarah. But seriously guys. LEARN SOME FUCKING MANNERS. I can not believe the sense of entitlement people seem to have, thinking they can just go up to complete strangers and insult their appearance. Tattoos are pretty mean things to insult, as well, because you can't really change them. Keep it to yourself. And remember:
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On a more positive note, CLICK HERE to read people's true life stories by Sarah Von. It's a very interesting (and on-going) project she's been working on for a while now. She basically interviews people with a-typical lifestyles, or who have had something crazy happen in their lives.
And especially check it out on November 29th, because that's when my interview will be up!!
