Permanent

Someone gave me a temporary tattoo last weekend, a book with wings with the phrase "Read or Die" written underneath it. I put it on my left bicep, and I've been feeling kind of badass. I'll miss it when it's gone, and I go back to being the only person it Portland without a tattoo.

Despite my lack of tattoos, I have managed to put my mark on a couple of people these past few months, and I didn't even do it on purpose. I was working on the reference desk, and wrote down a couple of titles of books for a patron. My shift ended, and I went back to my desk to take a break. A few minutes later, a coworker came back to tell me that the patron I had been helping needed to see me. I went out to find her, and she told me she was about to get a line of a poem tattooed on her arm. She really liked my handwriting, and wondered if I would write down the line of the poem so that the person doing her tattoo could copy my handwriting. I was so surprised that I don't remember what the line was, or even who the poet was.

Only a few weeks later, I was again working on the reference desk when a patron came up and asked me if I knew who Wimpy from Popeye was. I told him yes, and he asked me to find some pictures of him. I did a basic Google image search and showed him the results. The patron asked me to pick my favorite, and I wish I'd been a little more choosy, and taken his request more seriously. Instead, I choose arbitrarily and then he asked print out the image so that he could take with him to have it tattooed on his bicep later in the day.