He was perfect, well almost. I met him online. He was a big guy, 250 lbs of solid muscle and taller than me (for once). Arms. I have a thing for men’s arms, muscular ones. I find them attractive. His arms were huge. His biceps were easily larger than my thighs and his forearms were easily bigger than my calves. He actually called me a lot too, as in -instead of texting- and he even seemed interested at first. Then he added me to his Facebook. Those beautiful arms of his were not what I had seen in his pictures on the dating site. Now that I was privileged to the information on his Facebook, I saw that both his arms were tatted up with full sleeves!
In the past, I always found tattoos on guys to be sexy but two full sleeves? Not really my style… We went out to dinner where I was able to see them close up.
“Are those dinosaurs?” I asked examining the various illustrations on his arms.
“Dragons,” he promptly corrected me.
He could call them whatever he wanted. They looked like dinosaurs to me and the thought of this big tough guy tattooing a family of blue and purple dinosaurs on his arms made me giggle. I tried to be respectful and bit my lip.
“Do you have any other tattoos?”
“So that’s your first tattoo?”
“Wow… you really went all out… What made you choose this particular design?” I was a bit curious.
“What do mean?”
“I just went to the tattoo place and told my guy to do what he wanted.” And he picked dinosaurs? I didn’t say a word. That was just crazy in my opinion. His arms were so beautiful in the older pictures of him, the ones without the tattoos. I never disliked a tattoo so much in my life as his two full sleeves. His tattoos were a huge turn off. Every time I looked at them, bright orange dinosaur eyes glared back at my face: a constant reminder how he’d destroyed his “natural” beauty.
Then there was the guy who always talked to me at my sales job. He too was a tough guy, drove a motorcycle and had an awkward neck tattoo. Every time he would talk to me I would star at it. One day I finally asked him, “Is that a Pegasus?” He was taken aback by my question.
“No. It’s a dragon.” I could not conceal my laughter. I swear i wasn’t laughing at his tattoo but more so the fact that I thought this “tough guy” had tattooed a Pegasus to his neck. The moral of this story is to never get a “dragon” tattoo and if you do, don’t come talk to me unless you want your ego bruised.