Posted By: Erin Kaplan, Columbia, Missouri
It’s just shy of 1 A.M., and I’m buying a pack of cigarettes at the gas station down the road from my house. A stranger walks up alongside me, notices the bandage on my arm, and asks, “Did it hurt?”
“No,” I reply, and pause. “Yes, but not at first. It starts to hurt about half an hour after you’re finished.”
“Damn,” he smiles. “I’ve been thinking about getting some ink for a while now.” He lifts up his shirt, points to his left pec. “I want to get something like an eagle here.”
I tell him to...