Body modification is so interesting to me, especially tattoos. That’s why I collect as many of them on as many parts of my body as I can. But lately, as the weather has gotten warmer, I’ve been feeling a bit bummed about one aspect of having so many tattoos. The sun is out and I’m wearing less clothing, so I wish that more men would stop me on the street and talk to me about them.

It’s not like I got all this ink because I truly appreciate the art form or because my tattoos have meaning to me personally or because I just wanted to and could. No, I spent thousands of dollars on my body art so that men I don’t know who see them while I am walking to the bus with my headphones in will come up behind me and tap me on the shoulder and talk to me about them. Seriously, what’s the point of having tattoos if not to get specifically guys to look at me?

The best part about my tattoos attracting so much attention from loitering men is that, most of the time, they’re not even really trying to discuss my tattoos! They’re just using a feigned interest in them as a way to transition into hitting on me or even as a means to unashamedly check out my body without feeling guilty. And while there are plenty of men that I encounter while I’m out minding my own business who bother me or leer at me without using my tats as a thinly-veiled excuse, I really wish that the ones who do get my hopes up by pretending that they share this hobby of mine before becoming almost immediately sexual and creepy would pop up more.

I live for that and it doesn’t happen enough!

And sure, I meet plenty of tatted up men and women who are honestly interested in comparing art, or chatting about our favorite tattoo artists, or sharing recommendations for conventions. But that kind of authentic interaction just doesn’t compare to the feeling of pure joy and excitement I get when a man who has been staring at me from a park bench for upwards of 25 minutes finally works up the nerve to come over to where I’m reading alone quietly and ramble on for a few minutes about how much he loves the bird tattooed on my wrist while fully looking down my shirt the entire time. It’s such a thrill to experience, and I certainly wish it was more common.

Ultimately, I suppose I’m lucky. All of my tattoos are of high quality, and I’ve taken good care of them so they don’t fade too much. But if I’m personally putting all this money and hard work into getting and maintaining my tattoos, the least that random dudes on the street could do is follow me for blocks while I’m walking home, insisting that I stop and give them my undivided attention so that they can tell me how much they love my tattoos and then quickly follow up with what they’d do to my butthole if given the opportunity. I don’t think I’m asking for much!