After a few hundred times of being asked this question, I got pretty sick of it so I decided to wear long-sleeved shirts.
This little decision made life more than a bit uncomfortable for me, especially during the long hot summer months. One hot Saturday morning, I went down to the local news agents shop for a look around his store. I happened to pick up a 'sleaze' magazine. As I scanned through the back section I noticed an ad for a new product called TATTOO REMOVAL. The magazine had some very funny stories in it so I bought it and stuck it in mi back pocket.
Later that day as I was laid on mi bed, I started to read through the back section again. Once I came to the page that advertised 'Tattoo Removal'. I read the small print which said, 'Remove your unwanted tattoos painlessly and permanently with our brand new product. I pondered the thought that this new product, if genuine, would make life a bit more comfortable for me. The next time the Post Office was open, I bought miself a money order and mailed it off to the company, with my return address.
14 days later I saw Big Tex in Blackers Hotel. Big Tex was about 6' 6" with jet black hair and a permanent 5 O'clock shadow. He wore dark-rimmed glasses and spoke with a slow, Aussie drawl. Tex was 30 years old at that time and had worked for the Post Office since he left school at 15.
He was always very respectful to me. Anytime a letter arrived he would, on many occasions, deliver it to the Hotel bar for me or he'd tell me where the mail was sent from and asked me what he should do with it.
"There's a small package for ya at the General Delivery, Yorky."
"Where's it from Tex?"
"It's from a company called TATTOO REMOVAL in Melbourne somewhere."
"Oh, I know what that is.", I said.
"Ya gonna get rid of your tattoos' Yorky?"
"I don't know how well it'll work Tex but I'm gonna give her a go, mate."
"If ya wanna go across the street with me to the Post Office, I've got the keys. I'll get it for ya now, if ya like."
"That's pretty good of ya Tex. Why not. Let's go mate. I'll buy ya a beer when we get back."
That afternoon, as I sat on mi bed, I opened the package to see what miracle it contained. Inside the small box was a tiny plastic bottle of white sticky liquid, a half-inch square of hard abrasive pad and easy-to-follow directions.
'That looks pretty simple to me.', I thought.
I decided to waste no time. First of all I shaved the area between mi thumb and first finger where the 5-pointed red and black was. I scratched the top layer of skin away with the small, hard abrasive pad, according to the directions. Soon as this was done, I dipped a tooth pick into the white fluid and drew white lines on top of the black ink lines. As I was doing this, I noticed a slight burning sensation, probably from scratching the skin, I thought, as I plastered on more of the white liquid.
After I had covered all the lines on both mi hands, I lay back on the bed to let the white stuff dry. I must have dozed off for a few too many minutes because a strong, burning pain caused me to wake up. As I sat up, I looked straight down at mi hands. I swear, a fine wisp of mist was coming out of the tattoos.
'This doesn't look too good to me', I thought, as I stared at the white fluid which now seemed to be making its way under mi skin. I jumped off the bed and washed mi hands with cold water and soap.
Once I dried 'em, I was astonished to see that the white fluid had eaten its way into mi hands about 1/16 of an inch. All I could see now was quite large open trenches in a star shape. When I looked very carefully into the open scars, there was still dark blue ink in the open flesh. I threw the white fluid into the trash can and made a couple of clean patches out of a white hanky to tape on mi hands. It didn't take me long to work out that the white fluid had a high percentage of acid! No wonder it was slowly sinking into mi hands.
Had I not have woken up, who knows, I may have been able to whistle through the web between mi thumb and first finger.
The open scars took about 8 weeks to heal and to this day the scarring is raised and visible. So much for the tattoo removal and so much for the the long-sleeved shirts.
From that point on, I didn't have to deal with mi tattoos' again. Everyone else had the problem, not me.
