After four years of working the London Tattoo Convention... Always dreaming of bringing my girls there and showing them around my favorite city. After nineteen hours in transit and seven hours in customs... there we were, back on the plane, no shower, no meal, no rest. I felt embarrassed and very disappointed. Disappointed in myself and in the concept of honesty always being the best policy.

It  all started with the same question I am quite used to. The same one they always ask...

 “And what is the purpose of your visit to our country?”

“I’m visiting some friends”

“What’s the address you’ll be staying at?”

“Actually, I’ll be at the premiere inn by the tobacco docks. I’m not sure of the address.”

“What’s in the tube?”

“Just some paintings.”

“Did you paint them? Are you planning on displaying them somewhere?”

“Yeah I painted them and no, just bringing them to give to some friends.”

We’re going to the London Tattoo convention. I come every year and wanted to show my daughters.”

“School has started back in the states, right? Do you have paper work giving your daughters permission to be out of school?”

“Umm, no...I have permission but not any paperwork.” As I feel my forehead begin to sweat.

“ So you’ll be tattooing at the convention? You are a tattoo artist?”

“Ummm, yeah, I’ll be tattooing.” I had to answer since they had’nt done the bag search yet and of course they would see all my equipment.

“And people will be paying you?”

“Well, no... I mean they may tip me or buy dinner or something...” I knew at this point that I was dealing with some one who was not tolerent of much. This was the point of reckoning.

“Sir, any type of compensation is against the law without a proper work visa.Are you aware of that?”

As he explained how I was being detained for further questioning, I then thought, well no big deal. After all my bags were completely emptied, fingerprints, and photos,  not only mine but my girls too... I, at this point,  knew things were not looking so good. “We have further questions.”

Searching through my bags revealed some printed emails that showed money exchange through my paypal account and photos of intended tattoos. I told them I was doing it for tips, and hotel rooms, and dinner etc. He considered all those things income to my profession. Very frustrated and tired after waiting nearly seven hours in the detention room with people from other places; we were finally told I had been refused entry do to intent to work without proper authority and documentation. There was one lady from Africa that was there to see her fiance that she hadn’t seen in twelve years. She had a round trip ticket for just a few days stay in London and she misunderstood one of the questions which made them call her fiance who answered it different than her and they sent her back to africa. We also watched them send a wife from California back cause her reason for wanting to stay in the UK was her husband had been transferred there for a few months to work but she didn’t have a job. They thought she was gonna try and work without the same paperwork I was missing. They have only been married a few months and she was getting sent back. Every decision was based on hunches, and speculations, on simple questions, and feelings about the answers.

I offered to let them keep all my equipment. I just wanted to show my girls the city for a day. No go... Cause one twenty five year old guy and a little rubber stamp didn’t think I should. All the previous years, “What are you doing in our country?” “Oh, I’m here for the London Tattoo Convention.” “ That’s cool, you’ll be tattooing there?” “Yep, it’s my favorite show.” “Well enjoy your visit, good luck at the show.”

Anyway, I am writing this on the airplane ride back going on forty hours since I left my house . No shower. No real meal. No toothbrush... just sitting cramped in a small space. Watching my teenage daughters try to hold back the tears, so tired, so uncomfortable. I’m completely torn up that they have to go back and tell their friends and teachers that they never made it, that they flew to London and never got out of the airport. I keep playing it all back in my mind...

 “What is the purpose of your visit to our country?”

“we’re on vacation.” That’s all I had to say... of course, they still may have searched my bags and came to the same conclusion, but what I wouldn’t give to go back and just lie.


( I have since talked to the show organizer in London and found out that after he explained the situation the head of customs, all other artists were cleared, and it happened thirty min before we took off, whick means while we were being excorted through security, the customs office of London Heathrow was being informed of our clearence. So close... Hopefully I can make it next year.)