A couple of weeks ago I told you about the Venezuelan dude I was dating who spoke no English. If you haven’t read that post yet, go take a look before reading this one please (I need the views). In that blog I told you that I did an irresponsible thing on our second date. Well, here’s that thing.
The day after our first date we were discussing what activity we’d do for our second date when he said “I could tattoo you”. As a huge lover of tattoos and also of getting things for free, I said “yes please, beautiful man” without stopping to think about whether this was a good idea. I quickly chose two designs for him to scratch into my delicate flesh, settling for a pineapple for my arm and a ‘pinky promise’ for my upper thigh/ass. Because why not?
We chose the following Tuesday for date number two, and I was full of excitement (cue more mouth watering from me) when he arrived at my house. After some brilliant kissing he set up his tattooing equipment in my shitty windowless bedroom and proceeded to change how my body will look for the rest of my life. As I lie on my bed trying to make small talk in Spanish while he dragged an ink-covered needle across my skin, I started to consider how my latest bright idea might not actually have been so bright.
As I write this I’m wondering whether you think getting tattoos is irresponsible enough to warrant a blog. Perhaps you’re disappointed and expected something much wilder to have happened on my second date. Getting a tattoo from a man you want to do ‘stuff’ to doesn’t seem so crazy, right? Wrong. Lemme tell you why this was one of my most stupid ideas to date.
- One of the tattoos he gave me is essentially on my ass. The first time a total hottie sees your ass should not be while it’s bleeding and you’re sweating (well, it depends what you’re into, I guess). He also had to clean my tattoo, and therefore my ass, and then wrap it in cling film once he’d finished it. That kind of intimacy should be saved for marriage, surely?
- Other than how he kisses, I didn’t really know much about this guy. A second date is usually reserved for getting to know your potential bae a little better, not for letting them mark your skin for eternity. It really is a lot of trust to put into someone whose surname you’re yet to learn. And I know that you don’t even tend to know how your tattooist kisses (well, you might – no judgment from me obvs), but it somehow seems more intimate to trust your newest make out partner than a new tattooist.
- Do people really get tattooed in their bedrooms? Is that in any way safe/hygienic? Anybody who’s been in any of my bedrooms will know that I’m not good at cleaning, and that my bed is less than sterile. Wait, is that dust on your needle?
- As you know from my first blog post about him, this dude doesn’t speak English. It’s tricky to communicate which colour you want the pineapple on your arm to be when you don’t know the Spanish for ‘teal’, or where on your hip you want your ‘pinky promise’ tattoo when saying ‘hip’ hasn’t been covered on Duolingo yet.
- What if he turns out to be a dick (which sadly, he kind of did)? Now I have two reminders of my fleeting romance with a dude who ghosted me before those tattoos had even healed. I’m actually wearing my mistakes on my body. Forever. Whenever I look at my stupid pineapple arm I feel a bit pissed off. Strong move, Sophie.
We only managed two more dates post-tattoo, and our great love/lust is no more. But it’s cool, it’s not like he was the hottest man I’ve ever laid my eyes on in my entire 30 years on this planet. Oh, wait, it’s exactly like that. Bugger.
What’s the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done with a Tinder date? SPILL THE BEANS!!!