As you know, people often get tattoos to mark significant milestones or turning points in their lives. After several years of waffling, I made up my mind to celebrate my 40th birthday by finally getting a tattoo -- something Celtic or tribal perhaps? Or, what the hell, if all else fails -- a labrys!
But fate intervened. A few months before my 40th birthday, my job was abruptly downsized in government cuts. Without a healthy income, I went into strict survival mode, dramatically cutting back expenses and not spending any unnecessary money until I could find another job. A tattoo became a luxury I could not and would not spend money on.
So my 40th birthday came and went and I remained a tattoo virgin. Although I found another job in my field within a fairly short time, I never did get my once-planned tattoo because, as they say, "the moment had passed." And I've never had a serious hankering for a tat since.
Thus, ladies and gentlemen, I remain the non-ink-stained wretch you see here before you today.