Standing in line today at the post office I notice a cute little granny come in and get in line behind me. I turn to smile at her, ’cause I love me some cute little old grannys, then my eyes immediately stop. Not wanting to gape at her openly, I wait a few seconds then look back around feabily attempting to give the impression that I am looking out the window just behind her.
I turn back around and say a most grateful and hearfelt prayer to thank GOD that the two tatoos that I have are on locations of my body that can easily be hidden under clothing with out having to look like I live in Saudi Arabia.
Little granny, with her cute little cropped white haircut and her appropriate house dress (or moo moo if you will) and blue little house slippers has several tatoos on her arms, hands, back and side of her neck. And when I say granny, I really mean granny, like maybe 70-75, hunched over and all.
I then began to wonder how she came to have these tattos. They didn’t look too terribly faded and yucky like many old tats tend to. Did she have a midlife crisis or were these from youth that were touched up later in life? Was she a 60’s biker bitch? Fascinating.
In the end, I thought good on ya granny, for not being ashamed of who you are or who you used to be! For all I know she jumped on her Harley and peeled out of the parking lot!
Mar
13
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