Tattoos in the workplace

I like tattoos.  I have a few myself and I can appreciate the artistry and effort that goes into a good piece of ink-work.  I also work in an office building where most people are required to dress in at least semi-casual attire.  So my own personal tats are usually covered up to a great degree.  And even if they were on display, they're of good quality, they mean something, and they're not offensive.  Now, when I refer to a tattoo as being offensive, I'm not talking abou tthe kind of stuff you expect to see from members of the Aryan Nation or anything.  I'm more offended by poor quality than I am way you choose to display your personal beliefs on your body.  And that's why the rash of bad ink I've been seeing at work is really starting to piss me off.  I don't know if we've been hiring from the work-release program of the women's prison or if it's just a coincidence that some of the new faces I've seen around tend to be sporting horrendous tattoos.  Of course there's the requisite stuff on the ankles and arms: flowers, names, blah, blah, blah.  But I also just saw a woman with a tiger climbing his way up her ample bosom.  And she also had a rose gracing her right forearm.  The work looked blurred, so it may have been there for a while.  But it just wasn't good, even when it was fresh.  But those two looked great compared to another one I just saw.  Now I can't say exactly what it was because I didn't take the time to examine the details.  But what I did see conjured up images of a drunk teenager with some cheap ink and cheaper machine practicing on an even more drunk teenager who thought it'd be a good idea to let a friend practice on them.  I think what I saw was an image of Sonic the Headgehog dribbing a basketball.  The color was poor, the lines weren't sharp, and the likeness to everyone's favorite SEGA superstar was vague.  But I guess the placement of it could have helped things; I mean, you can get a bad tat on your ass cheek and no one will ever see it.  But this one: no such luck.  It was right on the outside of her left arm, on the bicep.  Seriously?  I almost said something to her, I was so offended.  Instead, I struggled to contain a smile and laugh.  Most of us just live our mistakes over in our minds, but hers was on display for everyone to see anytime she didn't wear long sleeves.  As much as I am for personal expression, I would stand firmly behind management if they forced the girl to wear sleeves every day.  It's only right, really.