While waiting in line to grab some breakfast this morning I took a brief break from staring at myself in the mirror (looking very good today, I might add) and perused the room. Various people were finishing packing in eggs, potatoes, bacon, sausage, kittens, you name it. As is often the case a young woman caught my eye. She was hefting up a large shoulder bag and getting ready to leave. Her shirt was open in the front, not in an obscene sort of way, but enough to allow me to see a ginormous Christian cross tattooed in full color centered directly above her sternum.
It must have been at least a foot tall, judging from where I was standing. I was entranced, that takes some serious testes to get ink done of something like that, in that spot and of that size.
Chest tattoos are the most painful. I’ve heard of guys fresh out of prison going in to get something ridiculous like “Thug Life” put in from nipple to nipple and passing out from the pain.
The only thing that would cover this bad boy up would be a high necked crew tee or turtleneck. Talk about witnessing!
Let me also remind you that tattoos are, for the most part, very permanent. About as permanent as born-again devotion.
The whole image just unsettled me. I was raised religious and reasoned myself out of it by the time I was fifteen. Any time I see a religious tattoo it smacks of zealotry to me. If your faith is secure you shouldn’t need a permanent mark to remind yourself and others that you are a servant of God. It’s actually counter to many of the teachings of the Bible and Christ. Namely the story of the widow’s offering and the lesson of humility in faith and not needing to publicly showcase your faith.
Witness by example, I was always told. Chest tattoos seem a bit much, am I right?
I thought about talking to her about it, but what if some of the things I said eventually led to her renouncing blind faith in favor of personal logic, introspection and objective thought?
Who’d pay the laser tattoo removal bill?