We hadn’t seen Bryan’s tattoo artist in awhile and it was nice to catch up with him. While we were chatting, I noticed a girl lying on her side in a separate room, getting a tattoo of a flower on her ribs. She was breathtaking: thin with tall brown boots, long, knotted dreadlocks, piercings. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say she was mid-20s. Though I didn’t mean to, I couldn’t help but glance over a few times (I’ll be the first to admit that I can appreciate a beautiful girl).
While her tattoo artist put his needle down and cleaned up, she came to an area close to us, and lifted her shirt to get a good glimpse of her new ink in the mirror.
“That looks really great!” I said.
Thinking that she hadn’t heard me, I repeated myself a few moments later.
Oh, I thought. She hears me… she’s just ignoring me.
It was then that she made her way even closer to show Bryan and his tattoo artist the work. She stood mere inches away, exposing her naval, and saying how happy she was with the work.
Part of me wanted to reach out and say, listen, I GET IT, because in all honesty, I understood completely what she was doing. Clearly she didn’t give a shit what the only other chick in the tattoo shop thought about her tattoo; she wanted to show it to the dudes.
But I still thought it was a little rude. At the very least she could have acknowledged that I was sitting there, too. At the time, it felt as though she had breached some unspoken rule in the Girl Code.
Bryan, who is usually Captain Oblivious when it comes to this kind of behavior (bless his heart) noticed and thought it was bizarre, but you know, chicks, man.
Am I overreacting, and what would you have done?