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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