Jul 012011
 

Psycho KillerThis weeks’ adventure in California deals with the tattoo. I visited Sacramento on Saturday for the sole purpose of watching a loved one go through the pains and throes of going in the under the gun so to speak to have tattoo created. Can I call them tats? I think that is the cool euphemism to use. I already feel like the proverbial 1950s’ beat nick now. All I need a goat tee and some really horrible poetry to spew in front of a room full of people dressed in black thinking I am reciting something really deep. Well yes, what I would be reciting is something really deep and it is named [email protected]! I am trying to recall if anything really useful came out of that movement with exception that many were killed while crossing streets at night thus preserving the future free of beat nicks proving again that evolution does exists!

We piled into the car and began our journey to Old Sacramento. I really do like Old Sacramento but I was surprised that it is really newer then new Sacramento. The city had hired a PR group from out of state to come up with a name and when they walked through that portion of town thought it was old but there are older parts throughout the city. They contemplated naming those areas Older then Old Sacramento but that would entail another section being named Newer the New but Older then New Sacramento and NO one would know what the Hell was going on! Personally I am I think I am confused!

It is amazing that there are six to seven tattoo establishments in Old Town. I saw 2 year old standing outside of one with a “Ride Till You Die!” tattoo on his arm, standing next to his baby carriage smoking a cigarette and enjoying a baby bottle of Schlitz Malt liquor “THE BULL!” Talk about a tough place! So after finding a convenient place to park, we MOSIED (There is NO walking OR meandering in Old town). We located the sign denoting the location of the shop but when we walked into it, all we found being sold were Indian artifacts. We walked back out front to the sign and Ernie commented that it must be one of those Harry Potter door. He was carrying laptop to check in on how a move to a different carrier at work was going and found a Harry Potter fanfare page and located the incantation for location and opening of secret doors. Magical, incomprehensible syllables came from Ernie’s mouth and an aardvark appeared, rolled into a ball and 5 children came running by and kicked it away. He had been given the incorrect spell. He then spoke the words “Can someone unlock the door and let us in?” and within seconds a person was at the door permitting us to enter. Little did I know that Ernie was such a powerful Necromancer.

The building was ancient but had been pleasantly updated with paint and was quite profession. Cases prominently displayed all the accoutrements for any piercing you could possibly desire. There was a 92 year old woman with a walker deciding which gauge wire she wanted her nipples and belly button pierced with. There was Rockabilly music playing as I walk outside onto the porch that over looked the bustling activity going on below me. I thought deeply as I surveyed the area and thought “Should I jump off of here and fall on that group of 4th graders walking by so they would break my fall? No!” I thought “I may get hurt.” I walked back inside and the tattoo process was about to begin. We all too seats around the recipient as bravely lay down and prepared for the tattoo.  The artist’s name was Joey and he was a very pleasant young man. He verbally ran down the list of what she could expect from the process and also from the Hell’s Angels that had broke in a week before and threatened himself and his partner Clint. Clint is the piercing expert.

Joey explained to Dani the difference in the needles and what she could expect. The pen was started and Joey went about cleaning and dabbing the instrument into paint. Dani yelled unexpectedly and said he was applying too much pressure. Joey calming informed her he had not started yet. He diligently went about his business and applied the stencil then meticulously began the process of outlining and then filling in the tat. I would periodically stand up and take a picture of the tattoo in progress and of the amply endowed woman receiving genital piercings through an opening in the curtain in the next room. He did an incredible job of creating and transferring the image and it looked gorgeous. I wish I could have had a skull like that with a snake crawling in and out of the eye sockets… wait; no it was a dolphin jumping from the water. It was very tastefully done.

I do have a few stories from questions that I am sure Joey and Clint are asked all the time. “What is the weirdest tattoo you have ever done?” Now you will think this is a bad joke but it is true. He said he had a Mormon come in that was in the process of doing his mission. Joey asked what he wanted. The Mormon said “The word terror” tattooed. Where so you want it? He replied on his wrist. So Joey said he left with a terror wrist! Painful but true. Clint said his strangest piercing was some gentleman that came in the prior week and asked to have his butt pierced. Clint called everyone he knew to see if anyone else had done this. No one had. He charged 500 dollars to pierce his anus. The day we were there, one elderly gentleman came in and asked Clint about suspension piercings when he proceeded to show Clint what he already had done himself. Clint explained that it appeared that the man had 8 nipples through his shirt. This even disturbed Clint!

So we ended the day eating at my favorite hole in the wall, gorging myself on chicken wings and listening to the drunks sitting at the bar arguing who was a better looking woman, Boy George or Janet Reno. Wow I was not going to get into the middle of that one! We then proceeded next door and ate a lot of chocolate! I mean a LOT of chocolate. It was great. First time I have had a treat in sometime and nothing like bingeing when you do! I looked pathetic crawling on the floor picking pieces of chocolate from the floor which had fallen there. The establishment had a magazine mounted on the wall which had Arnold Schwarzenegger touting the store as the best chocolate in Sacramento and also the place to look if you wanted to have sex with a Hispanic nanny. Not a good endorsement!

So the day ended a complete success. A tattoo, stories, good food and gorged on chocolate. How could it be any better? Maybe not getting run over by the runaway horse carriage? That hurt…

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