Guy with tattoos of girls on his face
He was taking a break, smoking a cigarette outside the tattoo parlor. I guessed he was one of the practicing artists, given his position and the number of tattoos on his head – and face! They came up his neck and onto his cheek: not just designs, but full facial sketches. Serious! Was this just art, or gang membership; maybe a vendetta for a fallen comrade?
I walked past to put money in the ATM. Less than $300 and B of A charged $5 a month to clear out small accounts. I liked having a hidden stash for emergencies, but not at $60 a year service fee. Prepared to top it up after the last emergency, I pushed buttons – only to find this ATM didn’t accept cash. What?!
After making my deposit with a teller, I walked back toward the tattoo guy. In the gym, I had seen many surly looking men with tattoos up their arms and across their chests. Sometimes I asked the meaning of the art. More times than not, the designs had to do with love, life philosophy, or the names of their children. What the heck; if you don’t stop to ask, all you have is false generalizations. You miss the chance for deeper understanding.
As I approached, I saw the designs were of women: lots of women. “Tell me, what do you do if you change girlfriends?” I asked.
He laughed and said, “These are all girlfriends. The one over here is my wife.”
I admired the drawing. “She didn’t make you take off the others?”
“Nah. She’s cool with it.” I was impressed that she didn’t have an issue with his priors. Or if she did, it wasn’t enough to demand removal. Fortunately, his wife held a prominent spot, rising up onto his right cheek.
“That’s good. I mean, these people meant something to you. They were part of your life for a while.” Enough so that he immortalized the relationships with prominent ink. I wanted to capture this but hesitated. “I’d like to take your picture, but I don’t want to invade your privacy.”
“Sure, that’s okay,” he said, then added a question: “You’re not a cop, are you?”
We both laughed. “Nah, I’m nobody. Just a carpenter who’s trying to retire.” I snapped the shot, wished him well, and continued on my way. In sharing the encounter, I wondered whether I should PhotoShop a rectangle over his eyes. But how would that disguise a fellow with his wife’s image so prominently displayed?
We’re all living out loud, and he’s showing the world the women he loves.
That’s cool.