i love the smell of ink, blood, and sweat. sweet and tangy. exhilarating. the talent was incredible. local, and not so local, artists doing what they love. creepy beautiful. beautifully thought provoking.
i have never been to the tattoo convention before.... so many beautiful people in one place. so much nudity too.... girls in bras and panties and fishnets walking around as if it was normal to do so in public. one girl went as far as to don only electrical tape over her nipples, a pair of black panties and high heels. it was Shampoo all over again but with the sounds of tattoo guns instead of music. i felt small and not good enough in any way.
the convention took up 2 floors. one mostly vendors. clothing, jewelry, artwork. the other mostly tattoo stations. i looked for you. i knew you wouldn’t be there, but it didn’t stop me from looking. there were certainly a ton of large, bald, tatted out men there :) Had I found you I’m not sure what I would have done. likely stood there and stared and waited for you to say something. and i’d definitely have a new tat right now and probably a black eye.
you weren’t there. its better this way.
eventually the sea of people became irritating and the heat overwhelming and we headed out to her favorite bar. First bar I’ve been to in a long time that had male bartenders. sexy male bartenders. i felt old. and plain. and sad.
this is where we met Steve Buscemi.
i had had enough of the convention's $3 pbr’s and was drinking vodka tonics by this point. the beautiful bartenders kept them coming. and this place had some killer chicken tacos! so there we were, chicken tacos, beers and vodka, and Steve Buscemi. It was a good night.
but there were trains to catch... and once it was time to go we decided instead to cab it back to my place. We finished one last round and headed up the street for some pizza, grabbed a cab back to my place, and hit the Corner Bar for a round. i suppose it was close to closing time by the looks on the faces of the 5 people in that place. we didn't care. we had a beer and walked up the street to my warm bed where we had another beer before turning in. (I’m beginning to realize why this story is heading where it is heading).
She slept on my side and I on “yours” well she actually slept in the divot in the middle pushing me to the edge.... typical. we cozied up and fell asleep only to be woken way too early by blackberry's alarm. damn church.... damn niece's and nephew’s and baptisms and birthdays. i drove her to the el and left her with a token and instructions to get to her train and off to her sunday.
i climbed back in bed. i felt like shit. first time in 17 years i had a hangover. 2 days later and i still don’t feel quite right. mostly i’m angry with myself. its been only recently where i’m finding myself insanely drunk by the end of the night. i used to be so good at gauging and checking and controlling. when did i lose myself?
the smell of sweat is still lingering in the air. not the good kind like at the convention. not sexy. not exhilarating. gross, sickly body odor. i need to take a shower. i need to wash off this monster clinging to my flesh. i need to regain control.
and i need to find my deodorant....
No comments:
Post a Comment