De Plane! De Plane!

I have a tattoo on my arm and I'm not talking about the Herve Villechaize kind. I got it about a year ago after one of my best friends died of some fucked up cancer shit that took him way too soon. He was diagnosed and given about six months to live and then 17 days later he was gone. It was and probably will always be one of the hardest things I have ever dealt with. Although he has been gone for over two years, I still wonder why I haven't talked to him in so long and why he never returned the poke I gave him on Facebook. I have tried to poke him again and it just says "Van has not received your last poke yet. He'll get it the next time he logs in." I swear to God it makes me cry every time I see that fucking message. I guess that feeling will never go away. I got the arrow on my arm for him because he was one of my biggest supporters in whatever I chose to do. "Don't give up, you can do it. Just keep going for it. Don't look back. Press forward." These are all things that he told me on a regular basis whether it was about auditioning, writing, substitute teaching at a high school, or anything else I had decided to throw myself into. I love the tattoo. It reminds me to keep pressing forward and it makes me happy to look at it. However, when I got it, it didn't occur to me how prevalent it would be at my job. My other tattoos are much more inconspicuous, but this one is right there for every table to look at whenever I hand them something. Just about every day, someone asks me what the arrow means. Depending on my mood or how much time I have, I either give them the long version about the death of my friend or the short version, which is "keep going forward."

More than once though, I have had people ask me about the tattoo and they think they know why I got it. "Did you get that because you're a waiter and the arrow tells you where the food goes?" Seriously? Do people think that I love waiting tables so much that I got a permanent marking on my body to always remind me where the fucking plate goes? That would be like an IT guy getting a tattoo that says "Control, alt, delete." Or maybe an English teacher getting the alphabet tattooed on her arm. Or a porn star getting an arrow pointing to her coochie saying "insert here." (Okay, that last one is totally a good idea.) So, no, I did not get the arrow on my arm because I am a waiter and "that's where the food goes." Whenever someone assumes that's the reason, I always say, "No, it's to remind you where the tip goes."

I dunno why I wanted to write about this today. A few nights ago someone asked me about the arrow and I told them the full story. People always love the full story because it's real. And meaningful. And sincere. It's not trite. The tattoo gives me comfort. Every time I feel down or worried or confused, all I have to do is look down to my right arm and feel the presence of my good friend Van who could always make me feel better no matter the circumstances. So if you see a waiter with an arrow on his right arm, you will know two things: one is that this waiter had a great friend who was taken too soon.The second thing you will know is that you are being waited on by The Bitchy Waiter and you'll find that he's not all that bitchy.

I miss you, Van. I really do.

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