An old woman walks into a tattoo shop, looks the artist dead in the eye, and says, “I want to get a tattoo.” The artist, caught off guard by her age and intensity, hesitantly replies, “Well, okay… where exactly would you like this tattoo?”
The old lady doesn’t blink: “Actually, I want two. One on the inside of my left thigh, and one on the inside of my right thigh.”
The artist’s eyebrows shoot up. “You know how much this is going to hurt? Are you really sure you want them there?”
The old lady practically barks at him, “Of course I know that’s where I want them! I don’t care how much it will hurt!”
“Okay, okay,” the artist says, putting his hands up. “Whatever you want then. Let’s take a look at the art book to see if there’s something you like.”
“I already know exactly what I want,” she says firmly. “I want a Christmas tree on my left thigh, and a turkey on my right thigh.”
The artist pauses, needle in hand. “Uhhh… okay. I’ll do it. But could you please just answer one thing: why on earth would you want such a thing?”
The old lady smirks and says, “Because I’m sick of my husband complaining that there’s nothing to eat between Christmas and Thanksgiving!”
