Friday the 13th Tattoos

Published on Thursday, May 19, 2016 by Katherine

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Friday the 13^th was always my lucky day.  When others were dreading its arrival, I was anticipating a good day ahead.  Even my first born made his appearance on Friday the 13^th during a full moon and a meteor shower.  This may help to explain why getting a Friday the 13^th tattoo was on my bucket list.

From what I understand, Friday the 13^th tattoos became popular in New York where one could get a 13 tattoo for $13, tipping seven more for an even $20.

Friday the 13^th flash tattoos are down and dirty.  Tattoo parlors provide a sheet with designs you can choose from with the strict rule that none of the designs can be changed.  For $13 you can walk in and be tattooed in about three minutes.  Remember folks, you get what you pay for.  For me, that was the fun of it.

These tattoos are supposed to be lucky charms, warding off the very evil this particular day is known for.  To me, it meant a symbol of my special day with a nod towards my recent open heart surgery miracle son.

Last Thursday I began looking for a local tattoo place that offered these flash designs.  I only found one but it was fairly close to my house.  During my Friday lunch I nervously entered the shop to look at designs.  To add to the experience, I was yelled at for attempting to take a picture of one.  I decided this was not a bad sign, as EVERY SINGLE PERSON BEHIND ME WAS YELLED AT AS WELL FOR THE VERY SAME THING.  If you don’t want pictures taken, perhaps you can put up a sign?

“Hmmmm what to choose.  A small coffee cup?  Maybe.  A penis and testacies shaped like a 13?  NO!  That black cat with a 13 is kind of cool….”  But then I found THE one.  A wobbly, quickly drawn anchor with a 1 and 3 on either side.  My Dad was Navy so my choice was made.

After about five minutes I was called back by the cutest guy in the shop.  BONUS!   He had me sit on my knees on a chair while my ankles rested on his lap.  DOUBLE BONUS.  And then the gun sound began.

“BERRRRERRRRREAAARRRRRRRRR”  Ohhhhh.  I forgot that hurts.  “BEERRREREEEAAAAAAAAARRRRRR DONE!”

Three minutes later I had a nasty, wobbly and very cool Friday the 13^th tattoo along with good luck words from my artist.  My tattoo is still bumpy and healing.  I have now learned what tattoo blowout is, my mother has forgiven me and my kids think I’m… well, bad ass.

My oldest and I learned very quickly in December that you only live once.  In my son’s case, twice.  So do what you want.  Don’t worry about anybody else and doggonit check off those items on your bucket list.

Go skydive!  Take horseback riding lessons.  Attend an art class.  Dye your hair.  Join an adult kickball team.  Try laser tag.  Go to an underground club.  You won’t regret it…. And perhaps it will make you feel pretty bad ass too!