VICTORIAHASNOSECRET

If you know me, or follow me on twitter, then you know I like to frequent the bar. But that’s neither here nor there. The bar is merely the setting for quite possibly the most annoying conversation I’ve ever had regarding my tattoos. And let me preface this by saying that I am not opposed to explaining my ink to those who are in fact curious about them, but if you see I’m busy having an intense conversation with someone else, then that’s probably (and when I say probably, I mean it’s not) the right time to ask me a million and four questions about my ink. And so the story begins… One night, I’m at the bar with my homegirl. I forget exactly what we were talking about, but I do remember it being a pretty in depth conversation. Next thing I know, I’m getting tapped on the shoulder…

him: *tap tap tap* I like your tattoos.
me: *turns around* Thanks. *turns back around*
him: *tap tap tap* So… how many do you have?
me: *turns around* A lot. *turns back around*
him: *tap tap tap* What do they mean?
me: *turns around* They don’t mean anything. *turns back around*
him: *tap tap tap* So… if they dont mean anything, why did you get them?
me: *turns around* I don’t know. I just did. *turns back around*
him: *tap tap tap* Well, that’s not a very good reason.
me: *turns around* I know. *turns back around*

Now, it may not read very well, but if you couldn’t tell, I was pretty irritated after the second *tap tap tap* so all my answers thereafter were, of course, replies of sarcasm. I don’t know if he could tell… although probably not, seeing as the *tap tap tap*’s kept coming, but ladies and gentleman, take heed, if someone’s answers to your questions are short and then they actually turn their back on you, they’re probably (and when I say probably, they’re not) interested in talking to you.

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