While visiting Toronto, Canada, my sister and I were on a tour bus, taking in the sights and exploring the city when we drove down the main street past all of these tattoo shops. While I was distracted by the people dancing below us (we were driving through a parade as well), she mentioned the abundance of tattoo shops. Agreeing with her, I said, yea, it’s a city I figured as much. She then asks if I remember what I said all those years ago about us getting matching tattoos………… and that’s where it started.
I chuckled because I was both shocked and surprised at the fact that she remembered a conversation we had in passing and her willingness to hold me to a flimsy off-hand statement I made during that time. I felt “tricked,” but not wanting to disappoint her, we both got off the bus at that moment and started browsing the shops. While I was still apprehensive about getting a tattoo, she was enthusiastic. She led us into three shops before settling on the one we would patronize. I go into further detail about the rest of the trip here.
During our time in the shop, the employees were very sweet and attentive and greeted us with a book of samples and styles of tattoos they had done prior. This portfolio of their work made me more comfortable with this. Now while this part of the ordeal only took 20 minutes, It took us several hours to figure out exactly what we were getting. We bickered back and forth about the design, the quote, and the place on our body it was going. Two employees periodically visited us, asking if we were ready to go. We said no as we were still deciding what to do. After a few hours, a third employee casually asked us if we were related in some way. We said “yea” and asked how did they know. Their response was it was a wild guess.
We finally decided on what and where we were placing our tattoos. When they heard that I wanted it on my foot, they asked me several times, am I sure, as that area hurts, and it’s my first one. I insisted that I would be fine, and although this was my sister’s second tat, she also asked if I was sure. I assured her we would be fine and even made a joke, stating that she forgot I was as crazy as she was. She laughed, in agreement, stating that she also got her first tattoo in a painful place, which is how she knows that were related. The rest of the evening was spent prepping for the tattoo by drawing a purple outline for where on our foot we were placing it and shaving any fine hairs off of the surface of our feet as they wanted to avoid any ingrown hairs growing in, and causing pain to us later as our skin healed and “scabbed-over” from this.
Shortly afterward, we went into one of the rooms, and as the artist inquired about who was going first, I volunteered. I knew at that moment if I didn’t, I would have backed out. My nervousness grew until the point I got into the chair. Once I got comfortable, it began. It was a very painful experience. It felt like someone took a blowtorch and sodering iron and turned the fire down low (to the blue flame), and started writing on my foot. I screamed once, and my sister and I had to hold each other’s hands for support to get through it. Once the outline was done, I was told I could finish the tattoo another time as coloring it in hurts more than the outline. As I looked in the mirror, it looked like someone had drawn the design on my foot with a pen. It was reminiscent of when my friends in grade school and I drew cartoons and stuff on each other with pens and markers.
I told him, let’s finish it up now, as I won’t go back to get it completed later on. I wanted to get this over with once and for all. As he was shading it in, my foot eventually went numb, and I could relax as he finished up. The only time the pain returned was when he colored in the parts that were close to the bones in my toes and another area on the vein towards the inside of my foot. I won’t lie; that vein sensitivity took the longest to heal. My sister went; next, she held her own better than I did, and while I held her hand for comfort, he finished her faster than he did me. We left the shop around midnight and took an uber back to the hotel.
The rest of the trip was spent doing the “river cruise” portion of the tour and heading to Dundas Square for souvenir shopping and festival hopping. We had to adjust our walking at one point because the bandage and saran wrap was sliding out of place from where it was wrapped on our feet. We felt the after-effects’ initially walking to the dock, but as I swatted away at a hornet that came near us, it circled back, and we could not quickly escape it as we were still limping. I don’t know how we didn’t get stung.
Over five years later, the tat still looks good, and it barely faded. All things considered, If I decide I ever want another tattoo, I might only go back there to get it done. The quality, the time spent, the patience, and the customer service from that shop were bar none. I was thoroughly impressed.
Here is the tattoo shop we went to. They were very patient and accommodating to me.
