No regrets.

   

(Gumby tattoo at the 15th House, 5.11.2008)

 

Give a punk a tattoo gun and a whole host of strange like-minded freaks will crawl out of the woodwork eager for the chance of free ink from an inexperienced tattooist.

 

Within a week Sarah had transformed our back living room into a tattoo parlor complete with a waiting list that she didn’t even get close to finishing during her stay.

 

Tattoos completed on a daily basis include an octopus with tentacles stretching across an entire leg, several cutesy animal caricatures depicting gratuitous drug, alcohol, and violence references, an anti-cop Gumby, and the states commonly known as the Midwest on Dusty’s calf (just don’t tell Missourians that Ohio is part of this grouping).

 

Ah … reminds me of my first (and only) tattoo – a three-quarters finished red punk patch, safety pinned to my upper back. It spells “ride” in cut-and-paste style letters – an homage to DIY punk culture and BMX. It’s 20-year-old cheesy. I love it, finished or not. No regrets.

 

Like Sarah’s, mine was done in a living room, Punk 101’s during the summer of 2002. Like Sarah, Chris, my tattooist, vanished just as quickly.

 

Fat Steve had met him through an ad he ran selling pit bull puppies. Chris, a part-time tattooist by trade, was broke, but offered free tattoos in exchange – from equipment borrowed at night without the owner’s permission. Fat Steve agreed and before long he had a few dog tattoos while the West Side BMX scene had various bike-related ink.

 

Within a few weeks, Chris, his girlfriend and new puppy moved into Fat Steve’s house, but his girlfriend was problematic and they soon moved into a motel. He worked two days on my tattoo nearing completion before suddenly disappearing.

 

Calls were not returned. His motel room was abandoned. The common assumption was that he got locked up for not paying child support.

 

Sarah, it was a fun few weeks. Here’s to plenty of pool at Suzy Cue, dumpster diving at Krispy Crème, drunken spin the bottle, and, of course, bad tattoos. Safe travels and I hope you find the place you’re looking for. If all else fails, I know a room in Columbus you can use as a tattoo parlor.