People With Tattoos Are Dangerous

I don’t have a problem with tattoos. I really don’t. I liked the crow blades on George Clooney in the film From Dusk Til Dawn, and I would never insult a member of the New Zealand Maori rugby team for all the flowery tribal prints running up their legs. They might eat me.
So the thing that I struggle with is what tattoo I would get done, if I wanted one. Maoris have the excuse that tattooing is part of their culture and heritage, and they eat you if you upset them.
No disagreements here then.
For most people, tattoos are a rather idiotic way to fill your skin up. Cartoon characters, family members’ names or strange combinations of flowers and skulls are just some of the typically foolish designs. There was a trend in Britain for a while to get something tattooed in Chinese script. That was until people realised they had the word ‘dog’ or ‘crisps’ or something that meant nothing at all sniggering behind them on a shoulder. Chinese people must think we’re really odd.
Funnily enough, some pale and pasty Brits try to look tougher by copying barbed Maori patterns but unfortunately they still look a few chips short of the full football hooligan. Do they make you look stronger? Probably not, but if you’re prepared to spend a few hundred quid on the splat under your skin, no doubt you’re prepared to punch someone at a bus stop too and are probably best avoided. You heard it here first: people with tattoos are dangerous.
So if you’re thinking of getting a tattoo, at least get something that is worth it. If you’re dedicated to a cause or have achieved something exceptional, maybe that’s a justification. Won a medal at the Olympics? Get those five rings etched on your chest. Survived Tour de France? A speeding bicycle on the calf. Greenpeace activist? Whale on your bottom, why not?
The important thing is that it means something to you. I remember working in a supermarket at the age of 16 where one of the women slipped her uniform to one side to show me a tattoo of the Mr Men, a children’s cartoon, on her shoulder. She thought it was cool but I really couldn’t understand what they were doing there. Did they really have that important an influence on her that she felt the need to dedicate her body to them? Had she overdosed on Mr Happy or got too friendly with Mr Tickle? It was one of those strange teenage experiences; I still shudder when I think about it. How many people must have thought she was an idiot? Wouldn’t you rather have a blank shoulder than an idiotic one?
But wait- I need to be honest. I have thought about getting a tattoo myself. As a younger man, I dreamed of playing rugby for England and would have been proud to have the red rose inked onto my chest for life. Although as I get older, balder and more brittle, I am gradually coming to terms with the fact that my dream may not come true. Mrs Betts has come up with a cool design for a his-and-hers number and I’d happily devote the best part of a pec to my wife, but something’s stopping me...
Maybe I want to feel calm at bus stops. Or confident around Chinese people. All I know is that a tattoo is permanent and you’d better get it right if you’re having one.
IB