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| Doynk Doynk ! | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| My Info: |
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| Name: | Victor Scardella | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Doynk - Doynk
! By Victor Scardella I remember how I looked up to my older brother Steve, who was my childhood hero for numerous reasons. One of which was how "cool" he was as he was tall and thin like I was. There was one more attribute that made him stand out in my mind. He had some pretty "cool" tattoos that I liked and my favorite one was the tattoo that he had on his chest. It was a tattoo of a full length naked woman tattooed on his chest and I thought it was sooooooo cool that I wished that I could have one just like it too, even though I was still a kid and was too young to be able to get a tattoo legally. One day my younger brother Jamie and I were down the street at our friend Jeno's house just hanging out and relaxing with our friend Jeno and some other friends of ours. Jeno came up with an idea and presented it to all of us for discussion. |
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| His
idea was that he make use of the bottle of permanent Indian ink and a
large, straight sewing needle that he had access to in his
house. He thought that he could take those two items and use
them to give us guys tattoos of anything that we wanted. I
thought this was a great idea and a perfect opportunity for me to get a
tattoo like the one that my older brother Steve had on his chest of the
full length naked woman. I agreed to be Jeno's first customer
and took off my shirt. I explained to Jeno that I wanted a tattoo of a full length naked woman on my chest just like my older brother Steve had. Jeno agreed to do that tattoo and prepared his supplies for the task at hand. He opened the bottle of permanent Indian ink, dipped his needle into the ink and drew his arm back, taking careful aim at my chest. He lunged his arm forward striking my chest with the needle soaked in Indian ink. First one dot then another dot. I like to use sound effects when I tell this story out loud to people for added enjoyment. The sound that I like to make when I tell this story out loud to people is : "Doynk? Doynk". Each doynk represents each dot that Jeno placed on my chest with the ink soaked needle. After Jeno struck my chest twice with the ink soaked needle making two nice dots on my chest, I realized that there was a considerable amount of pain involved in this procedure. I let out a yell, "Ouch !", I exclaimed ! "Stop, I've had enough !", I said. With that, he stopped immediately and asked what was wrong. I told him that it hurt too much and I was giving up my idea of getting a tattoo. Jeno agreed and moved on to the next volunteer. It is interesting to know that to this very day, those two simple dots are still on my chest. They have become a permanent part of me and serve to remind me of this funny and true story that I enjoy sharing with people that I meet all over the country and also with you here as well. As the story continues, my younger brother Jamie decided to be Jeno's next volunteer to get a tattoo for one simple reason. My younger brother Jamie wanted to prove that he was tougher than me, his older brother. So, my younger brother Jamie rolled up his shirt sleeve, exposing his upper arm near his shoulder. He chose this area because he could keep it mostly hidden from our parents for some time and give it a chance to properly heal. The image that Jamie chose was that of an Iron Cross and he thought it would be cool to have it tattooed on his upper arm. Jeno agreed to do that tattoo for my younger brother Jamie and successfully completed it for him. My brother Jamie was successful in keeping that tattoo hidden from my parents for several days. Until one day when he (Jamie) was in the bathroom on the main floor of our house getting washed up for supper. Jamie had his shirt off to wash more thoroughly when our step father walked into the bathroom to tell Jamie that supper was ready and being placed onto the dining room table. Our step father wanted to tell Jamie to come directly to the dining room table as soon as he was finished washing up but the tattoo on Jamie's upper arm caught the attention of our step father's eyes. Our step father asked Jamie what that was on Jamie's upper arm. Jamie began to explain to our step father that it was a tattoo and when Jamie explained that to our step father, he had a great deal of pride in his voice as if to say "I have a tattoo and I am proud of it !". Our step father got angry and said : "Tattoo My Eye !... Wash That Thing Off Your Arm Right Now !". My brother Jamie explained that it was permanent and that it would NOT wash off ! Our step father said angrily "I will wash it off myself !" and found the stiffest brush that he could find and started scrubbing my brother Jamie's arm. As our step father scrubbed my brother's arm, the tattoo remained intact and unchanged. So, our step father scrubbed harder and Jamie began to scream in pain. Finally our step father gave up, shook his head and walked away mumbling "you kids do the dumbest things sometimes". As the years past, I ended up getting three real, professionally done tattoos and will share the stories behind those tattoos in other parts of this book. Since my brother Jamie died from nerve cancer at the age of 21, I do not believe that he ever got any more tattoos. I trust that you have enjoyed reading this story of my first tattoo experience as I have enjoyed sharing it with you here. |
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