Once I turned eighteen I decided that I was going to get a tattoo. I grew up in a strict household so for you to understand my rebellion you must understand that this was a monumental decision in my teenage years. This summer, June 5 , 2010 I got a tattoo. My best friend Sarah Heinz and I were sitting at her apartment debating on something to do for the evening. Both of us already being a little on the wild side, we had to do something outrageous. I met Sarah at my old job and we’ve been best friend ever since.
She already has plenty of tattoos herself and we had always talked about getting one together. So as we debated and searched for one that we both could agree upon, we devised a great plan. We hoped up off the couch, got in our cars, and headed that way. A quick stop to the ATM and we drove to the nearest decent tattoo parlor. We drove to Downtown Little Rock to go to 7th Street Tattoos and they were going to charge us an outrageous price for the small tattoo we wanted. They were going to charge us one hundred and thirty dollars for one hundred dollar tattoo.
To say the least, we left in a hurry. We thought about other places to go and called Anchor Tattoo in Bryant. They seemed to be the right choice. The walls were covered in vintage paintings, artworks, crosses and anchors. When you walk in there’s one big room for the tattoos and two smaller rooms reserved for piercings. I walked up to the counter and the owner’s wife, Katie, came up and talked to me about my tattoo. She asked me where I wanted it, what I wanted, and if I wanted any color. She also gave me a price estimate.
She told me that she would take good care of me and to go sit down while she finished up her previous tattoo session. As I was sitting and waiting, my nerves were beginning to get the best of me. Before I knew it, it was my turn. I walked up to this long black chair that looked like a massage chair. She had me lay on my stomach with my jeans low enough for her to reach my hip. Sarah made me go first because she said if I didn’t then I would “chicken out. ” I denied it completely but I knew she was right.
The first few minutes of the tattoo hurt really bad but once I got used to the pain, it wasn’t too bad or bearable at least. Sarah sat there and held my hand while I got my first tattoo. We both got a peace sign with a little heart in the top right corner. My grandpa that passed away a few years ago used to tell me all of the time “Meagan, always remember that peace is what makes the world go round. ” As I got out of the chair I felt like I could do anything. By the time they had bandaged me up and were getting ready for Sarah, I was ready for another tattoo.
As Sarah got bandaged and taped I was already debating on what to get next. Sarah will forever be remembered as my best friend who has the same tattoo as me. This tattoo will always have a special, sentimental value. Ms. Katie told me that for my first tattoo, I “took it like a trooper” and she gave me the tattoo for sixty dollars instead of its original price of one hundred dollars. That specific tattoo will always be remembered and never regretted not only by its meaning but by its experience behind it.
That spur of the moment idea led me to have a great story behind it. I’m glad that I did that with Sarah and we have that link in life now. Tattoos are forever and should mean something and I’m glad mine does. To this day my parents still don’t know. At the moment the rebellion caused me to feel empowered but now the guilt gets to me sometimes. But I just have to remember that I am my own person and my tattoo represents that. That tattoo represents me growing up and making my own decisions.