Tattoo Parlour

Near my house there is a place that does tattoos. For months I would walk past and hear the buzzing of the tattoo instrument thing and smile.

Idiots. Someone has a thing that goes buzz, it goes buzz TO HURT YOU. Why would you opt in to them pressing that up against your skin? Anyway, I thought it was one of those sweet duos*: people that think it’s a good idea to get tattoos, and those people getting hurt. It works well for me. But I was premature in finding pleasure in this simple combination. Because months later, a BBQ ribs shop opened two doors up. So now I stand outside the tattoo shop, close my eyes and open my ears and nose holes. I hear the buzzing of metal on skin, smell the sweet scent of burning flesh and I am flooded with joy.

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There is a fancy dress place (‘Fancy That’ – brilliant) in between the BBQ ribs and the tattoo place. I felt the need to get that in writing, but have nothing in particular to say about it.

*Sweet duos: these are the things in life that when you realise they go together, you can never imagine them any other way. I always knew that old men wore their pants up really high, I guess on some level I even realised that as an old man I too would wear my pants really high. But one day it just struck me: my belt-line is rising at exactly the same rate as the world’s sea level. It makes me feel at one with the planet.