Did I know at 11 AM Friday morning that by 11 PM that very day I’d be applying tattoo cream to the latest body art addition of mine?

Nope.

Did my friend Jess know that morning that she’d be sitting with me as a needle dug into my upper ribs, while I held her hand and nearly shouted “MOTHER FUCKER” every two seconds?

Naw.

Friday was the 13th, a superstitious day for some. Not for me; I was born on the 13th. Also, my grandmother was a huge Dolphins fan and had a brother named Dan Marino (also the name of #13, Dolphin quarterback), but he passed away when he was 7. My grandmother’s love for the Miami team spread to me. My parents always say 13 is their lucky number, due to my birthday.

I’m all about 13, my friends. So, when a local tattoo shop was having a Friday the 13th special (number 13, knife, and hockey mask tattoos at a lower price) I said to myself: “Let’s be spontaneous. Let’s do this shit.”

I call Jess at 11:15. She says she’ll come. Great, I say. Now I just need to figure out where to put this on my body.

I consult friends. It’s either the inner ankle of my right foot or the left ribs, since other parts of my body are taken by future tattoo plans.

At about 11:45 I panic. I call Jess back. It’s off; we aren’t going.

At 12:15 I tell myself that I’ll regret this if I don’t do it, so just do it, STOP BEING A BABY AND FORGET THE FACT THAT FEET AND RIBS ARE THE WORST TATTOO PAIN ACCORDING TO, LIKE, EVERYONE ON THE PLANET.

I call Jess back. She leaves me no room for thinking. She’s at the house in ten minutes.

And then there we are. Sitting in the shop, looking at the pre-drawn tats up for sale. I choose dice, a one and a three, to represent the thirteen. Because, baby, I’m Sara and a normal roman numeral that’s got a fancy design just won’t do.

Black and red, upper left rib. It took about a half hour and I may have cut off circulation to Jess’s hand, but it was totally worth it.

I present to you my Sailor Jerry-color-reminiscent, rockabilly-feel, potentially to be turned into a larger sidepiece, new tattoo: (also quite red because this is literally thirty seconds after it was finished)