The Big-house.
Hoosegow.
Jailhouse, joint, nick, pen,
penitentiary, slammer, cell, reformatory, hole, institution, hock, cooler,
clink, can, pokey, guardhouse, prison, gulag, guardroom, calaboose, bastille,
stockade, stir, general pop, bull-pen, cage, oubliette, block, tank, tollbooth,
jug, lock-up, coop, hold, brig, ward, bridewell, glasshouse, hulk, training
school, labor camp, prison camp, dungeon, keep, work house, stalag.
Everyone that I’ve
ever seen in jail has a tattoo. On TV especially. Man, if they would have offered to ink me in jail, I
would have been game for that.
Since jail, I’ve been
tattooed five times.
I didn’t get them because I promised my inmate friends
that I’d stick to tradition. Time spent behind bars was only a delay. The addicted side has
plans for more:
A ¾ sleeve on both arms, I’m all over that!!
Before that even, I would LOVE to get tat's on the top area of my hands. That would be sweet, but my wife tells me that it looks horrible and says I'd be embarrassed. I think that's debatable, but she might have a point.
The other place I'd love to get tattoo'd is on my neck. Back of the neck, or side of the neck, it doesn't matter - I used to work with a guy who had a russian word tattoo'd on his neck and I thought it looked awesome. My wife tells me to be careful where I get them. In my line of work, it might not be a great idea. I think that's debatable, but she might have a point.
I know I’m getting
older but it’s not like I’m getting dragons and skulls, not that there's anything wrong with that. All of my tattoos
represent something from my life.
Of the five, four of
them I love - a lot.
The third one, which
means the one that I had done after the second one, is the red-headed stepchild.
I will always love it. I will always remember it. I will always love what it
represents, but I do not like it, the design, or the circumstances surrounding
it and the circumstances surrounding it do not include the 10 to 20 extra
pounds hanging off of it - although I don’t like those either, but that’s a work
in progress.
Anatomy-wise, if I had
this tattoo in addition to beautiful flowing hair and other female parts, it
would commonly be called a tramp-stamp but being a boy, I’m pretty sure it’s
referred to as a tramp-stamp, still.
People have raised eye-brows, gasped, and
some have become spontaneous comedians because of this stupes tattoo. Every Tuesday during winter we
play hoops, shirts vs. skins, and there was a guy who commented on it
every time. I tell him I’ll tell him what it means when I know him better, but I
don’t ever plan on getting to know him any better than I know him this very
minute. He doesn’t really comment on it anymore, but more where it is.
The tattoo is my cell
number.
-- even though there
was a time when I probably should've just had my cell phone number tattooed to a
highly visible area on my body, it’s not my cell phone number.
In jail, each
jail cell is labeled with a number much like a hotel room, or a locker. My
locker was H2.
For a guy who loves
tattoos, I’ve never liked this one. Not for a second, from the first dip of the
needle to the saran-wrap wrapping, and I feel bad about that. I knew I wouldn’t
like it from the moment the tattoo artist quickly (and half-assed) drew the
design. I could tell he didn’t want to do it. Call it a feeling, but he didn’t
have the marbles to say ‘not today.’ Literally, it was 10-minutes before lights
out and he was all by himself. When he asked what I wanted I gave him the quick
version of my jail story and told him I wanted to have my old locker number, my old cell number, tattooed on my back. But I don’t remember
telling him to put it on my lower back, and I don’t remember asking him to
pierce my nipples either, but both were done.
I was married at the time to my first
wife, I was drinking again, we were drunk in a tattoo shop with a bad tattoo and freshly
pierced nipples. Funny enough, I just listed off 2 of my favorite things -- being drunk, and being in a tattoo shop.
You can be the judge,
but for good or for bad, I removed the nipple rings after about a year and a
half. I removed my ex-wife almost two years after.
I can’t get rid of this
addiction induced memory, and I can’t get rid of this tattoo.
