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Tattoo Joke

Recently, I got a sex change on a whim. I was out drinking with some friends, got really drunk, and went in for the surgery. The doctors suggested I wait until I was sober, but I said no, give me the sex change.

Well, to make a long story short (so to speak), I woke up with breasts, a vagina, and a splitting headache. Also, I had a tattoo. I donít remember where I got it, but there it was.

I was a woman for several weeks. The people at work were nice about it, but, to tell you the truth, I didnít really have time to enjoy being a womanóI was swamped with projects. Finally, I decided to go back to being a man. For one thing, I hadnít thought about how you need to change your whole wardrobe.

When I went in for the second surgery, I asked the doctor if he could also remove the tattoo while he was at it. He said, ďBut since youíre going to be a man again, wouldnít you like to keep the tattoo?Ē I said no, man or woman, I didnít want the tattoo.

I woke up from the operation, and I was a man again. But get this: I still had the tattoo! I thought, Am I crazy? I confronted the surgeon, and he said he thought we had left the tattoo part undecided. Now that I was a man, I felt like punching him, but I didnít. Instead, I just made an appointment to come back and get the tattoo removed.

I should have been suspicious when I went back to the hospital and they put me under full anesthesia, because when I woke up I was a woman again but the tattoo was still there! They said it had been a mistake, and to make up for it they would do my next surgery for free.

I didnít know what to do. I became depressed. I started getting hounded by my insurance company. They had covered my sex-change operations in full, but they said they didnít cover tattoo removal. But I didnít have a tattoo removal, I told them. They said they had already paid my doctor for one by mistake, and now I had to reimburse them. I called my doctor, and he said he hadnít received any payment for tattoo removal.

I was so mad, I felt like suing someone. But who? My drinking buddies didnít have any money, and I had no luck tracking down the tattoo parlor.

I gave up. I started hitting the bars and sleeping around. I donít even remember if I was a man or a woman at that point. I felt a little cheap, so maybe I was a woman.

One night, after some meaningless sex, he or she turned to me and said, ďYou know, I really like your tattoo.Ē Something clicked in my head, and in my gut or maybe my uterus. I hadnít realized it, but I also liked the tattoo. I was a tattoo person!

I called my doctor and told him the news: I wanted to get another sex-change operation, but I was going to keep the tattoo. He said I was an idiot. But I donít care. If wanting to keep your tattoo makes you an idiot, then Iím the king of the idiots. Or the queen of the idiotsóI have to look.

Resource

Jack Handey.

~~ oOo ~~