This is something I wrote months ago. I don't know why I didn't post it, but when I read it today, I liked it, so I am going to post it.
Yesterday I went to a very culturally-rich Chinese restaurant and a tattoo shop. The reason why is not relevant, really. No, I did not get a tattoo, and I did not get food poisoning.
Before I went to the tattoo shop, I imagined a dark dingy room with the smell of incense and cigarettes wafting into my asthma tortured lungs, heavily tattooed men with no morals, and the threat of hepatitis looming the second you walked through the door. I know that is very judgmental. I'm sorry. It really wasn't like that, much to my surprise. It was clean, even the bathroom. Yes, the men had tattoos, but not much more than the average person these days. They used clean equipment, it was well lite, with no incense or cigarette smoke.
Despite the atmosphere being nothing like I imagined, I did want to run. Really fast. I was way out of my comfort zone...way out. But, I didn't run. I made it, and I fulfilled my word. That is a good thing.
1 comment:
Come on, Shellie. You can't tease us like that and not tell us why the heck you went in there. Was it a dare?
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