Tales From the (Massage) Table: Afraid to Hurt Her Tattoos

I have no tattoos myself, nor do any of my family members, so basically, I have no idea how it feels to have one. I really have no desire for one due to my aversion to having stuff poked into my skin with needles, and because -- just nope. Don't want one.

This does not mean that I don't admire well-executed skin artwork on others, though.


 I have been caught inspecting the arms and shoulders of people ahead of
 me in the line at the grocery store, someone standing near me at a party, or sitting near me at a concert.  Some of the artistry and composition is remarkable.

There is a client who comes for near-weekly massages, and she has spectacular tattoos on her lower- and mid-back. It's an underwater scene with anemones, seaweed, and a few sea creatures.

Week after week, she has a super tense, spasming muscle on one certain spot on her back, and her turtle's head is right on it.  I have become fond of her turtle, because it's just gorgeous. I can't bring myself to really dig in to her poor turtle's head, so I find myself closing my eyes and working by feel so I don't worry that I'm hurting the little guy. Silly, no?

Also, I have named him Eduardo. Eduardo the Turtle.