I had this thought the other day while walking to work. (The 725 bus ends 3 stops earlier than usual for some reason. I walk about 15 minutes through the city center.) As I was walking past the tattoo place, I entertained the idea of getting something "slovak" tattoed on me (like the crest or some phrase or something). You know, cause I'm here and it's a cool place. But then I thought better of it.(How do you spell tatoo? I tried like 4 different spellings and erased 3 different typos)
The internal dialogue went something like this:
If I get a Slovak tattoo, I would have to get a tattoo in every country I visit (in interest of not playing favorites). Two logistical problems arise from this.
The first problem is how to decide what length of stay would constitute a "tattoo-worthy" country. Thinking that out just got complicated. Would a tatto of something Czech be in order because of my weekend in Prague? What about my 10-hour layover in Austria? Would I have to go back and get Chile and Greece tatoos? Should I start with a USA one? And not directly related: would it have to be done in that country? Much complications. (painfully poor grammar)
The second issue is that after a few trips, my body might start to look like one of those hard sided suitcases with all the stickers. I would become a walking (traveling) conversation piece.
Although the "suitcase look" was originally classified as a problem after thinking about it awhile, I decided that it might actually be a plus for the plan. it would give the random body art a unifying theme for starters. And, I ADORE those old suitcases. They are just plain out cool. If I looked like them, maybe I would be cool. I would never have to worry about small-talk with people ever again. (I am really bad at small talk) Folks would come up to me and ask questions and I could just tell stories. (I love stories!)
It was one of my most amusing walks to work in almost 6 months of being here. :)
I finally decided against it finally, based on two factors. The first being fear of what my grandchildren would think of gramma's wrinkly colored skin. The second thing (and deciding factor): Pain. I am a wuss, and I hear that tatooes hurt! Especially the colored ones.
The final decision came down to the question: What good could possibly come of being seventy years old and looking like a wrinkly black and white suitcase?
(Also, if i was covered in them, i'd have to learn how to spell tato? tattoo? tatto? tatoo? And then I'd have to figure out how to pluralize it tatoos? tattoes? tatti?)
