To start, I just want to say that I have never been the best storyteller. What the artist in the story told me was said much more eloquently by him, and sadly I can’t quite put it into the same words. I’m not trying to write a super biased, moral story; I just try to keep an open mind about everything.

I had been waiting to get my tattoo for a long time, and naturally I was nervous. I was disappointed nobody was able to join me but I still went on my own. I arrived at the tattoo parlor at around 6pm. The waiting room was very clean. They had a tv, magazines, portfolios, and comfy places to sit while you wait. I waited for about 2 hours till the artist was ready for me. I had looked over his work again and again and I was amazed by his art. Some of the drawings looked better than the pictures! The tattoos he had done were phenomenal! Usually when I look at a tattoo artists’ work it all looks sorta the same, but his were different. Seeing him for the first time was odd; he’s the single scariest looking person I’ve ever seen. He was a massive man. Even though he wore a black work shirt, pants, and tie, you could clearly tell he was covered with tattoos. You could hear the sound of his boots as he walked to the front room. As I went into his office the first thing I saw was the Nazi SS on his jacket, and I said “Oh hey, that’s the S—” then I turned around and saw all of the Nazi memorabilia he had of Adolf Hitler and the Nazi party. I was being tattooed by a racist Arian.

Naturally, I was nervous. Being by myself and getting a large tattoo on my leg. (I had gotten one other tattoo before then, but it was only a small heart on my side). And seeing this shrine he had didn’t help at all. When I turned and saw everything, my first reaction was to laugh. I said: “So, you like Hitler?” then he replied “Oh yes very much.” I continued to see the vast Nazi collection he had of dolls, stamps, pictures, documents, clothing, etc and I said “Wow, that’s hilarious” (since I hadn’t expected anything of the sort) and he replied “There’s nothing funny about it; Hitler was a great man.” I sort of swallowed my tongue at my last comment but I did try to explain myself. Hitler was this man’s hero and with me being ethnically Jewish, I found this hilarious. I had never expected to see something like that. I made the decision to say “I’m Jewish by the way” later adding: “Well, ethnically I am, religiously I don’t know what I am…” and he said “That’s not a problem, I’m a professional. I don’t let my feelings get in the way of my work. If I were to mess up a tattoo that would only ruin my reputation.” Though I saw how passionate he was for his culture, I felt I could trust his word. I’m very open-minded and wasn’t going to let this get in the way, as was he.

I asked “So why do you think Hitler was such a great man?” And clearly, this man knew his stuff. His knowledge of German history was as great as his expertise in tattooing. I was very interested in what he had to say, I found it fascinating, and I did my best to absorb what he was saying even though I found it quite hard to concentrate with the annoying pinching of getting a tattoo while looking around as if I was in a Nazi bunker. Everywhere I looked there was something relating to the Nazi party. When I tried to get my mind off the pain, looking at a doll of Hitler pointing a gun at me or seeing German posters promoting the Nazi movement didn’t quite help. He told me “Hey, it’s not like this is the first time an Arian is tattooing a Jew” which I found hilarious. I was defiantly intimidated and nervous being in his presence and sometimes when I get nervous, I sound VERRYY dumb. I don’t think I said anything that made too much sense, but I was doing my best to get my mouth to say what my brain was telling me. I knew I would be there a while, so I thought I would get use to things soon enough.

I had had a growing headache for a while and he noticed it was bothering me. “I can get some BC powder from Melinda’s office in a minute if you think that would help” he told me. “Yeah that would be great” I said. Once he finished the outline and shading of my tattoo he brought me the BC powder. “Danke” I said. Of course that being one of the very few German words I know. He himself was very fluent in the language. My leg would shake now and then and I found it quite irritating. Every time I would move he would stop what he was doing, and I could see the strong concentration and effort he put in to his work. I tried to joke with him, but I don’t think he shared my sense of humor: “By the way, even though I’m Jewish, I just wanted to let you know I did tip well.” He smirked occasionally, and said “The only people who don’t tip are Negros.” This also made me burst into laughter. I was constantly afraid he was annoyed with me, but I just tried to not let it bother me.

I asked why he detested certain races like he did, and I don’t fully understand, but I can see why he would feel the way he does. Hitler did great things for the German people, and just like the Jews despise him for what he did to their people, the German’s feel greatly towards him because of how much he did for theirs. We talked about German history, music, his work, etc during the hours I was there. We did find something in particular we both liked: Metalocalypse! We quoted different parts of the show and I found it very amusing. I left the shop at about 10:30pm, after he stayed for an hour and a half past closing to finish my tattoo for me. He said “I never rush what I’m doing” and he certainly didn’t. I love my new tattoo, it looks amazing, and I would defiantly go back to get another one.