September 17, 2013

The Safe Cocoon of the Mandatory Waiting Period

This could be on you!
   I sighed in annoyance when I recently read that lawmakers are considering instituting a waiting period for tattoos. We are struggling to come out of a recession, and as one body artist lamented, this statute would be a "job killer." Our economy relies almost entirely on people's tendency to make impulsive purchases, as the success of home shopping networks has clearly illustrated.
Not only would this law place the inkers themselves at risk, but the plastic surgeons called upon to remove bad results would also suffer greatly, and have to trade in their Rolls Royce's for BMW's. And that's just not right.

 
   This whole industry relies on the symbiotic relationship between the artists and the surgeons. Oh, and of course the foreign language experts. When you ask your artist to etch "Life is Beautiful," in an exotic language that you do not read or speak, on your body, he intentionally tats "You have an abnormally large head" instead. He then pays his undercover interpreter to alert you to your "faux pas" (a phrase which I have inked on my arm because it means "FoxyLady" in Icelandian) who then refers you to the plastic surgeon in this web of deceit. It's unfortunate, but it creates jobs.



(See the Post by Fox News.)
 
   Aside from these concerns about loss of employment, I am also concerned about, frankly... my lack of concern. Talk about "first world problems." I have survived haircuts and dye jobs more harrowing than a giant tattoo of Dora the Explorer imprinted on my back. I once pierced my fingernails. And, I used to wear fishnet tights and boxer shorts. Together. In public. True, these things are less permanent than imprinted body ink, but the horror is indelibly imprinted on my traumatized mind.

   So, I do not think enforcing a mandatory time to reconsider body ink is a necessity, but this article did lead me to consider which choices of mine might benefit from such a law. I realized that pretty much every activity in which I engage needs a waiting period. Getting up in the morning? Take 24 hours and think about it.


This could also be you.
But not me. Too conservative.
 What if Dollar Cuts insisted I wait a full day before getting the Miley Cyrus cut? Maybe they could also advise me to "sleep on" a decision to go platinum blond. These are obviously not important decisions, but this is a good place to start.

 
   All restaurants should have a policy of holding off on serving dessert for at least a day. "No, I saw how fast you inhaled that fettuccine Alfredo, ma'am. We have a strict saturated fat limit here. Come back tomorrow, and we will talk about getting you your bottomless banana split bowl."

 
   Cars! Can you believe we are allowed to just wander around a luxury car lot populated by commission-dependent, aggressive salespeople, and decide on the spot to purchase one? Have lawmakers not heard of the lethal condition known as the "midlife crisis"? Studies show that 99% of Ferraris are bought by people suffering from this illness, preyed upon by evil employees trying to collect their 3% of the sale. I totally made up that statistic, but I stand by it nonetheless.



No waiting period for Deep-Fried Certain Death?
Do people in Congress have no concern for their constituents?



  Perhaps the university I attended when I was 17 could have insisted I think about my decision to drop out when I was a Freshman. Perhaps some of these truly life-altering changes should only be allowed after a month of consideration, and a good dose of therapy. Do you realize that it is not easy to get into BYU? Do you know that my parents paid my tuition and living expenses? So, naturally, I quit. Because I did not have a waiting period, and I am completely incapable of making rational decisions without one.