The Mabee Inked Archives: Tony's Tattoo Truths & Tales
Some tattoo requests make you pause. Some make you ask questions. And then there are the ones that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
This was one of those.
He came in on a slow afternoon, a guy in his late 40s, well-dressed but looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes had that distant, heavy stare—like someone carrying a weight too big for one person to hold.
He handed me a folded piece of paper. “I want this. Exactly as it is.”
I unfolded it and felt a chill run through me.
It was an obituary. His obituary. Name, date of birth, date of death—only, that last part was blank. Everything else was filled in, right down to a short paragraph about the kind of man he had been.
I looked up at him, half expecting him to say it was a joke. But he didn’t. He just sat there, waiting.
“You sure?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral. “This is… a little unusual.”
He nodded. “I need it. Right here.” He pointed to his forearm. “Front and center.”
I hesitated. Tattooing someone’s own obituary before they were even gone? That was some next-level, final chapter type of thinking. “Can I ask why?”
He exhaled slowly, eyes locked on the design. “Because I want to control the ending.”
I didn’t press. Sometimes, you don’t need to know more. You just do the work.
So I did. I placed the stencil carefully, checked the alignment. As the machine buzzed to life, he sat perfectly still, barely even blinking.
Halfway through, he spoke again. “You ever think about how people will remember you?”
I glanced up for a second before going back to the ink. “Sometimes.”
He nodded. “I don’t want them to guess. I want them to know exactly who I was.”
I finished the tattoo in silence, wiping away the last bit of ink. He studied it in the mirror, tracing each letter with his fingers. And then, just like that, he smiled. The first and only smile I saw from him that day.
“Perfect,” he said.
He paid in cash, tipped generously, and walked out the door. I watched him go, that same distant weight still on his shoulders. I never saw him again.
But a few weeks later, I saw something else. A newspaper left in the waiting area, folded to the obituaries. And there it was. His name. His words. His ending.
The date was filled in.
Some tattoos tell a story. Some close the book.
What do you think? Would you ever get a tattoo that defines your legacy? Or is this taking things too far? Drop your thoughts below!
#TattooMystery #InkedArchives #TattooConfessions #StrangeEncounters #TattooLegends #TattooArtistLife #FinalInk #DarkTales #LegacyInk #UnforgettableInk
Poll Time! Would you ever get your own obituary tattooed?
🖋 Yes, it’s a powerful statement.
😳 No, that’s too eerie for me.
🤔 Maybe, but I’d change the wording.
Drop your vote in the comments below!
Until the next crazy session, keep your ink meaningful… or mysterious.
It's amazing what people put you through, and in your profession I'm pretty sure you've seen it all, your a bigger person than me, not sure I could get through it with the love and grace and time you put into your work. Your an amazing person. So blessed to have you as my artist❤️. Thank you for sharing the stories