You celebrate your coming of age in a tattoo parlor. You have long wanted a tattoo and today you don’t need to ask your parents’ permission, you just have to show your passport and choose the design you like. Making your choice, out of the corner of your eye you notice a stately man with black and white hair, who is clearly not here for the first time. After exchanging a few words with the masters at the reception desk, he walks deeper into the salon, greeting the young man behind the counter with a gesture. When you finished, you were handed over to the tattoo artist and taken inside the salon, where you saw that man taking off his short jacket, showing the whole salon his dotted body, or rather his back, the relief of which the Andes would envy. Some part was already tattooed above the shoulder blades and apparently he came here for the second session. You were led to a chair next to that guy. While the master was preparing you, a man with monochrome strands lies on his stomach with his hands folded under his head, and another master bends over him, degreasing his skin, and then begins work. You catch yourself looking at this process and, noticing this, your master attracts your attention with a question about whether the pattern is correctly located on the body and, receiving a positive answer, begins to work. The sound of the tattoo machine scares you a little, causing you to turn away.

What, the first time, right?

A measured voice comes from the next couch.