Girl in bar: [lifts her sleeve] Yeah.
Me [rolling up my sleeve]: That’s really great; I just got a triceratops tattoo.
Girl: That’s cool; where did you get yours done?
Me: Red Rocket Tattoo, on 36th street in Midtown.
Girl: 36th street!?! [gives me a disapproving look, as if to say, "Silly rabbit, you don't get tattooed in Midtown!"]
Me: [hemming and hawing somewhat]: Well, it’s close to my work…
Girl’s friend: I’ve heard of that place; it’s supposed to be pretty good.
Me [shooting the guy a "Thank you" glance and changing the subject]: So where did you get yours done?
Girl: Oh, Shotsie did it.
Me [blank look]: Oh?
Girl: He’s really famous; he pretty much put tattooing back on the map.
Girl: He’s doing this other one, too; can you tell what it is?
Me: The Bridge?
Girl: Yeah, the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s not finished, but it’s gonna be awesome.
Me: Cool. can I take a picture of your dinosaur tattoo?
Girl: Yeah, do you want me to shine it up for you? [licks her hand, then starts to rub her tattoo]
Me: I guess…
Girl: [rub, rub]
Camera phone: [click]
Me: Thanks! What’s your name?
Me: Hi, I’m Josh. Cool, well, thanks. See ya later.
…or something like that. While I didn’t know what to think of Liz’s attitude about location of tattoo shops (maybe I misunderstood? at least one of us had been drinking…), I’m grateful that she turned me on to Shotsie Gorman’s work; it is truly excellent. Photo taken with my crappy camera phone.