Last night I was so depressed over the day’s events that I was in bed and asleep by 9 p.m. I woke up at 4:30 this morning, and immediately remembering the abortion that was on my arm, was completely unable to get back to sleep. I got up and composed the following letter. It won’t change a thing (the tattoo is what it is at this point) but at least I feel a little bit better letting my “artist” know in no uncertain terms exactly how I feel about it.

It’s going into the mail later today:

11 May 2008

T Bone,

They say your first tattoo changes you forever. It took me years to get to the point mentally where I was ready to get inked. Once I decided I was ready, it took me weeks to get the design that initially popped into my head “just right.” At one point yesterday afternoon, just as you’d finished filling in the outline with black, my vision became reality and I felt a sense of elation I haven’t experienced in years. My tattoo was perfect.

But then you kept inking. Being a virgin to the scene, I thought maybe you were just going back over some areas you’d missed.

But when I looked over and realized that instead, you took it upon yourself to “improve” my original design—without even asking me—my heart sank. My first tattoo—my initiation into the brotherhood of the inked—was ruined. Even if I liked the shadows (and believe me I don’t), they don’t even match the contours of the original design!

I mean seriously, WTF were you thinking when you decided to take it upon yourself to do this? Is it common practice in your shop? Before we started was I expected to say, “And oh, by the way, don’t make any changes or additions to my design?”

Alternating between sadness, anger, and depression over the last twenty-four hours, I have come to three conclusions:

  • You should never have done anything beyond my original design without first asking me. A simple, “Hey, I think shadows and some highlights would really make this look great,” would’ve at least offered me the option.
  • When you’d completed the initial fill-in, I probably should’ve said, “Wow, that looks great! Thanks!” and stood up.
  • I should never have paid you.

Now that I have this thing on my arm in perpetuity, I’m faced with the option of laser removal, having it completely inked over and turning it into a huge black armband (fitting, considering how I’m feeling), or continue praying that some internet buds of mine in the tattoo business are correct when they say that the shadows and highlights will eventually fade—in about two. fucking. years.

As one of those guys said, “Scarring someone for the rest of their life is the most reckless thing I can imagine an artist ever doing. Anyone who is permanently altering someone’s appearance should ALWAYS ASK before making any changes or additions from the original, agreed-upon plan, especially when it alters the original design. Even if it is something the artist will think makes the piece “better,” the client should always be asked before it is done. Always!”

And frankly, realizing your fuck-up, shrugging your shoulders and offering the lame excuse/apology of, “I just wanted to give you the best tattoo possible,” doesn’t cut it. It’s NOT WHAT I WANTED, NOT WHAT WAS AGREED UPON and it CAN’T BE FIXED! You should never have done it in the first place.