In fact, they promised to physically stop me. I was not going to get a tattoo, they said, not on their watch, least of all a foot tattoo of Botswana. They promised to hold me down, knock me out, whatever it took. A tattoo is permanent, Spike! It’s forever! Their arguments and threats are one of my last clear memories from that evening. I gave in. The tattoo could wait till the next day.
