Freshmen at Large - Stephanie Hodges

When my best friend Carly told me she wanted to get a tattoo, I figured she, like countless other freshmen, was merely going through a slightly rebellious, I’m-finally-on-my-own phase. It was cool talking about it. Just knowing that we could get something permanent without our parents’ permission was thrilling in itself. She wanted an alpha and omega sign on her foot, and I wanted a fish on my ankle. Every time we drove past InkDreams or Poking You Tattoo, we’d laugh to ourselves, imagining ourselves sitting on the worn chairs with some sleeved bald guy making our tattoo dreams a reality. We watched “Miami Ink” one night until almost 2 a.m., trying to determine which spots were more sensitive and what it would actually be like to be “inked.”
All this was sheer fantasy for me. I knew I would be grounded until I turned 40 if I ever went through with it, but Carly, on the other hand, was pretty serious. So serious, in fact, that she started investigating which local tattoo-piercing parlors were the most legit. Before I knew it, we were walking out of the car and into a dark, faux-medieval room, covered in stenciled designs of everything from the “Gig’em” sign to anime fairies.
Carly drew her design, paid her 40 bucks, and in no time at all, was escorted to the back where the same bald, inked-out man from our dreams waited. He told her it would feel like a light cat’s scratch and that it would be more of an annoyance than an actual pain. Not so. The minute the needle poked her foot, Carly grabbed my hand so hard that I can safely say I took part in the suffering. She squeezed my hand until he had finished one line and then she loosened her grip. I used this opportunity to adjust my rings, which seconds before had been digging into my skin. He then proceeded to the lower part of her foot, and the squeezing continued, only 50 times worse. About 10 minutes later, when my fingers were white due to lack of blood flow, Carly’s tattoo was finished. So now she has what we all refer to as the “phat tatt” and I have a new college experience to share with everyone.