I don't know if I ever mentioned this on the blog before, but I got my second tattoo back in October. Normally that wouldn't be a big deal; however......I got the tattoo while I was in Navy DEP. (I still am in DEP by the way, at least for the time being, but I'll get to that later.)
Some of you may laugh at what I got. After starting my fashion blog, I became semi-obsessed with that "Moda Ribelle" phrase, so I searched far and wide for the perfect font to get the words tattooed on my shoulder. Once I decided on the font, I dragged my brother along with me to the tattoo shop. It only cost 40 bucks and took the guy about 10 minutes to complete. I loved it.....and then it hit me. I kinda sorta wasn't supposed to get any body art and/or piercings before going to boot camp. Oops.
I told my recruiter about it, and he didn't seem to think much of it. He had me fill out some form explaining the who, where, when, why, and how of my tattoo placement and that was about it. That was three months ago, but my decision may have come back to bite me in the ass.
I got a call from my recruiter's chief last week, asking me if "anything had changed" and he went on to ask if I was having second thoughts about going to the Navy. I told him no, I've actually been trying to get in shape for boot camp. He told me they have too many people waiting to ship out, and they are canceling DEP contracts for people that don't want to go. I'm not sure if that was meant to be a scare tactic to see who is really serious about joining the military, but I assured him that I didn't have plans of flaking out at the last minute.
Then I went to my recruiter's office earlier today to fill out some paperwork. The tattoo subject came up again, but once again, my recruiter didn't say much about it. After I got off work, I got a call from him saying I need to come into his office tomorrow because the chief wants to "talk" to me about my tattoo.
It may not sound like a big deal to anyone else, but any time someone wants to "have a talk" with me, it never turns out well. I've come to expect the worst in most situations because in my life, the worst thing that can happen always does happen.
Now my throat is dry, my chest hurts, and my stomach is in knots. Every minute that goes by seems to last an hour. How embarrassing is it going to be to tell everyone that I got disqualified from the Navy because of a $40 tattoo of my fucking blog name? I told my mom about it and she laughed at me. Nice.
I know if the worst case scenario does manifest, I can't be mad at anyone but myself. I knew the rules but like my usual hard-headed self, I did what I wanted anyway. Which is another reason why I wanted to go to the Navy, to hopefully break me of that habit. I have to stop writing about this now. I'm getting depressed just thinking about what's going to happen.