18th Birthday

Friday, March 27th, many years back, was my eightieth birthday. I have no idea what school was like on that day. My head was not in school that day. I am sure the sun was shining, the birds were chirping and flying through the cloud-filled sky, and there was probably a rainbow and unicorn too. I was already rearing and ready for go for my birthday Friday night!.

My first stop was my Tae Kwon Do belt test. I had been practicing for months to get my green belt. Stiff white uniforms, tight belts and bare feet; they did not mess around in Gus’s glass. They would knock the wind out of a girl as fast as knock the pedals off a rose. You had to focus and pay attention. You had to have your wits about you or you could get your butt handed to you. Those guys were fast. But fast and eager to learn was what I was at 18. Last thing I wanted to do is go to college and find myself in an uncompromising situation where I did not know any self defense or pressure points to apply to a situation, and heaven forbid I gain the freshman 15!

That day was a test to move to the next level and belt in Tae Kwon Do. I was the only girl in the class besides the instructor’s wife. Cute, tan, long hair, fit and firm, smart and invincible; come on you remember 18 don’t you? Small town Texas and I think my motto for the year was “Get me the fuck out of this town!”. What the hell is wrong with your brain at that age? Why do you have no fear, no worries and a constant, intense and almost pain to be able to experience everything in life to the fullest without regret? That year, my senior year, I was like a bull pushing through a fence. No boundaries. No limits. I sure wish I had a smidgen of that left in me now.

The test was after school and on a Friday. The game plan was to get my green belt and then head to Houston to get a tattoo with some of my buddies. Tae Kwon Do and tattoos; what a perfect evening! I aced the test. My brain worked and I remembered all the moves. I will compare it to a salsa dance and poker game at the same time. Focused and fluid, I made it through all the steps and tied on my new green belt with a confident smirk in front of my male classmates. I am 99% sure I left them with some smart-ass remark only a girl on top of the world on her 18th birthday, on a Friday and achieving a higher rank would say.

On to the next agenda item for the evening, I went home and got ready to go hang out with my friends and get my first tattoo. I had no doubt this would be an adult rite of passage for me, as it should be for everyone, right? Threw on a pair of jeans and some skin showing shirt, brushed my hair and headed out. My parents had finally given up on parenting me along with curfews I always broke. Good for them. I was tired of lashing out in a seeming eternal rebellious behavior and testing their limits every waking moment of the day. I jumped in my car and headed over to my buddy, Jay’s house, party central.

Single-wide trailer house with foosball table, wrap around couch, big television and stereo surround sound, dart board, Budweiser beer and smoking pot, I thought it was the center of the freaking universe. All the cool folks hung out there and we would be jamming to Steve Miller or Metallica getting louder and louder as the night progressed. We all thought we were the dart and foosball champions of the world.

Back to the agenda, I pulled up and rounded up a crew to head to Houston for tattoos. We had been planning this for a few weeks. I was the driver in my sporty Geo Storm. The rest of the crew included Travis, a head-banger with long hair and a great laugh, Kyle, a kicker with his cowboy boots, belt buckle and hat, and Jeffrey, a black guy with a great smile and laid back demeanor. Travis called shot gun and I am pretty sure the two guys in the back had little to no room on the hour ride to Houston to Shaw’s Tattoo Parlor. Shaw’s is the oldest tattoo shop in Houston and Travis had proudly received his other tattoos there. There was no vote or discussion on where we were going to get tattoos because Travis assured us that was the spot, where all the cool kids went. And that is what we were, the cool kids.

I heard if you drank too much before a tattoo you would bleed everywhere and I was driving; so I did not to drink too many beers on the way there. I also didn’t want to be high, so I was pretty proud of my somewhat sobriety as we pulled in the parking lot after the long ride. We all piled out of my small red car like the motley crew we were. I was just a girl on her 18th birthday with a head-banger in a black concert shirt, a kicker with his cowboy boots and hat, and a black guy with an infectious laugh. We walked into Shaw’s like we owned the place.

What I did not plan for is what kind of tattoo I was going to get. Looking back you would think I would have paid more attention to this detail. I guess I got lost in the planning or thought something would just come to me. I do not miss the naivety of 18. The walls of the shop were enamored with design and color. Flowers, skulls, dragons, pin ups, barbed wire, cartoon characters, butterflies, guns, hearts, broken hearts, cars, “Mom”, animals – the options were endless.

After about 30 minutes of pondering and walking around staring at all the options, my 18 year old brain decided on two final options. The two finalists included the black widow (how cool, right?!) and Thumper, the rabbit from Bambi. Thank God I decided on Thumper. I decided the location of first tattoo was my right butt cheek. I have no idea now why that was the logical deduction and decision at the time.

After much discussion, Kyle and I were boasting on our decided designs. He had chosen Chester Cheetah from Cheetos on his arm and I was getting Thumper on my ass. Travis and Jeffrey were just along for the ride or maybe wussed out, I don’t remember. Lucky for Kyle and me, we could make appointments on the spot. If they had turned us away we would have just left, smoked some pot and raced go carts, because that was also an outstanding way to spend a Friday.

I made my appointment with Cooper, the same tattoo artist who had done all of Travis’s tattoos at the oldest tattoo shop in Houston. Saying I felt privileged and proud is an understatement. Again, this was my first tattoo and I was young and dumb, so when I was summoned I walked back to Cooper’s area, masqueraded by a sheet to shield you from the public and his station consisted of his tattoo machine and table. Cooper looked at the two inch tattoo I wanted and I told him where I wanted it. Then he said, “Okay, drop your drawers”. I tried to act tough like I got tattoos on my ass every day, but have to admit I was a little scared. I did as instructed and got on the table. Travis kept trying to get past the sheet to invade my space and I think look at my butt but I yelled at him a few times and he quit. It did hurt but I have to tell you, I felt all grown up after he was finished. I now have a tattoo! I am a grown up! I endured the pain and the sacrifice on my rite of passage to adulthood. I had feared the pain would be unbearable, I could die getting Thumper on my butt, but I had survived! Kyle's Chester Cheetah looked pretty cool too. Now that we were confirmed bad-asses and had not passed out or bled out from having a few beers, we all left that joint with fresh ink, head held high and an air of confidence that resonated all the way home.

I was so excited about my tattoo, adrenalin rushing, rite of passage and endurance of pain once we returned to Jay’s. I could not wait to show everyone who had not joined us on our pilgrimage and brag about the entire experience. When we walked in everyone was sitting on the wrap around couch, watching a Pink Floyd documentary and stoned to the bone. It was pretty dark and smoky in the room, but I didn’t care. I wanted everyone to see.

I exclaimed to everyone about our adventure and turned to face away from them so I could pull my pants down enough on the right side to show them Thumper. I paused a few seconds and pulled up my pants, then turned around to see their response. In the dim, smoke filled room, one guy looked at the other and then finally, Jay said “Could you please show us again? The first time we were all just looking at your ass”.

I was appalled, gasped and glared at them a bit! After all the excitement, planning, sacrifice, pain and toughness all they could do was just look at my butt? I did show them again as I was super proud. I mean, I had the perfect 18th birthday and gateway to adulthood that evening; looking forward to new experiences, college, friends, paying bills and growing up. Like the combination of a salsa dance and poker game, such is life, focused and fluid until the dance or game is over.