Why I Don’t Have a Tattoo

I don’t think anybody has ever asked me why I don’t have a tattoo; that may be because I spend most of my days barricaded inside a self-made shelter that can only be described as part fortress, part homage to Bollywood. Or, it may be because, after having spoken to me once, the majority of people decide never to do so again. That being said, I thought, what better topic for a blog post than something that nobody has ever expressed interest in?

The reason I don’t have a tattoo can best be illustrated via a story. When I was in high school, I loved the band Twisted Sister. I don’t mean that I merely found their music enjoyable, I thought they were the best band ever (yes, even better than Warrant and Stryper). Their album “Stay Hungry” was not only the soundtrack to my lonely high school years but also became my life philosophy, leading, ultimately to a considerable weight problem. Perhaps a healthier album title would have been “Don’t You Think You’ve Had Enough Pie?”

In order to show my devotion to these rock gods I paid a friend to paint the “Stay Hungry” album cover on the back of my jean jacket. He did a stellar job and I proudly wore that jacket around until I could no longer take the twice daily beatings I received from the significantly younger, jealous kids. I ended up giving the jacket to Goodwill and in my heart know that some young Guatemalan refugee is currently getting the snot kicked out of him. Circle of life my friends. Circle of life.

I have more than enough naturally (according to several well respected veterinarians) occurring things on my body to be embarrassed about that I don’t need to add more. A full back picture of Dee Snider gnawing on a bloody thigh bone may be nice for some* people but I’m lucky that a group of good Samaritans was able to drag me out of the tattoo parlour and give me a good ass-whooping before I could go through with it.

*I'm using 'some' here of course to mean 'no.'

Waiting for a Bus

Yesterday I was waiting for a bus on the east side of the Sony Centre for the Performing Arts. It was raining a little bit so I stood inside the delivery bay to avoid getting wet. There were a couple of odd characters there. One was a 50ish man wearing a tank top who had more hair on his back and arms then I’ve ever seen on any human being or most animals. There was a sheep that passed away recently that would have given him a run for his money but that’s about it http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shrek_(sheep). The other was a 20ish guy who looked so happy to be alive that the cast of Glee would reject him for being too chipper. Guys wearing rainbow chaps and riding penis floats in the Pride parade would think he was overdoing it a bit.

I only take this bus on occasions when I have to run an errand along its route and I’ve never seen more than one other person waiting for it so two was not usual, but manageable.

The 50ish guy kept rustling around with his torn plastic shopping bag and fiddling with an old vinyl album. The 20ish guy kept smiling with his brilliant white teeth.

There were a few people milling about the artist’s entrance and finally one of the security guards said “I guess you guys are waiting to get an autograph.”

Now it all started to make sense. The hairy monster had brought his vinyl album to be autographed by Elvis Costello who was playing there later that night. I assume he was in the building doing sound check at the time I was there.

Now the security guard and Smiley were having a lovely conversation that I was in the middle of and knew that if my bus came I would have to rudely run right between them to catch it.

I was hoping Elvis would come out while I was there and the bus came as I was in the middle of shaking his hand. Then I could just blow off Elvis Costello and hop on the bus, but that didn’t happen.

The bus came while the security guard was telling us about his massive vinyl collection and, as nobody was actually at the stop, the bus drove right past. I took off like a shot between Hippy Dippy and the security guard, waved down the bus and got on. I was then chided by the driver who said “you can’t be hiding.” Yes driver, I’ve been playing hide and seek all day with you guys and not one of you even came close to finding me. Next I’m going to play tag.”