Tattoo update
April 04, 2010
Last weekend I had my tattoo re-done. I was adamant that I wanted it done somewhere reputable and the only place that had been personally recommended was Woody's in High Wycombe. So that's where I went.
As an aside, it really was the nicest tattoo place I've ever been to - hygenic, friendly and thoroughly professional. I can't recommend it highly enough - if you're going to have something ON YOUR BODY for the REST OF YOUR LIFE, why the fuck would you have it done in some dodgy skanky little back street? Go somewhere decent FFS!
Anyway, I got there at 9.30am even though they didn't open until 10am because I wanted to make sure I got an appointment. When I arrived I was fourth in the queue - the girl at the front had been there since 8am. By the time the shop opened, there were about a dozen people in the queue which immediately filled the whole day's timetable. Anyone who just turned up speculatively during the day was turned away.
Directly in front of me was an older couple. The man had several tattoos, the lady had never had one before but had decided to take the plunge in honour of their recent wedding anniversary. She was having their initials tattooed on her hip. My appointment wasn't until 1pm so we wandered off round the town and came back at 12.45 when hers was almost finished. I chatted to the man for a while until hers was done, then they said goodbye and went off happily.
The receptionist (who was loud and bouncy and full of enthusiasm, just the sort of girl who I find immensely likeable) waved them off. After they'd gone, she announced to the tattooists and their clients: "Aww, what a lovely couple! They seem very happy together, they're still really into each other. I'd love to be like that at their age!"
One of the tattooists, a quiet guy with a ponytail who had up until that moment been completely silent, suddenly spoke up. He had a heavy European accent and spoke quietly. He said, "I vould like to vatch them..."
The receptionist turned on him in mock-horror. "You FILTHY old man!" she shrieked, "You shut your MOUTH!" The rest of the shop exploded into laughter.
As an aside, it really was the nicest tattoo place I've ever been to - hygenic, friendly and thoroughly professional. I can't recommend it highly enough - if you're going to have something ON YOUR BODY for the REST OF YOUR LIFE, why the fuck would you have it done in some dodgy skanky little back street? Go somewhere decent FFS!
Anyway, I got there at 9.30am even though they didn't open until 10am because I wanted to make sure I got an appointment. When I arrived I was fourth in the queue - the girl at the front had been there since 8am. By the time the shop opened, there were about a dozen people in the queue which immediately filled the whole day's timetable. Anyone who just turned up speculatively during the day was turned away.
Directly in front of me was an older couple. The man had several tattoos, the lady had never had one before but had decided to take the plunge in honour of their recent wedding anniversary. She was having their initials tattooed on her hip. My appointment wasn't until 1pm so we wandered off round the town and came back at 12.45 when hers was almost finished. I chatted to the man for a while until hers was done, then they said goodbye and went off happily.
The receptionist (who was loud and bouncy and full of enthusiasm, just the sort of girl who I find immensely likeable) waved them off. After they'd gone, she announced to the tattooists and their clients: "Aww, what a lovely couple! They seem very happy together, they're still really into each other. I'd love to be like that at their age!"
One of the tattooists, a quiet guy with a ponytail who had up until that moment been completely silent, suddenly spoke up. He had a heavy European accent and spoke quietly. He said, "I vould like to vatch them..."
The receptionist turned on him in mock-horror. "You FILTHY old man!" she shrieked, "You shut your MOUTH!" The rest of the shop exploded into laughter.
