Texas, Shitty Tattoo Parlor Behavior and Thousands of Unchewed Chicletes

I joined my buxom blonde rock'n'roll DJ friend Christina on her road trip to Austin, I had been there before but this time I was going with a few retarded girls in hot pants and that's a good thing. We decided to visit a friend of hers at an out of the way, dingy tattoo parlor. We were there all of 2 minutes when she was in a chair getting the devil horns aka the Texas Longhorns hand sign language drawn up on her arm in big black and orange graphics. The texas Longhorns had just won the Rosebowl so the fever was everywhere in Texas. I think I was the only person not quite swept away. Christina was drunk and the tattoo was huge, taking up nearly her entire upper arm. She didn't have any other tattoos of which I was aware and I've known her long enough to know that a big sports/rock'n'roll dude tattoo would probably not be her first choice had she not been wasted on a road trip in Texas at the time. I tried to tactfully explain to her that she might want to wait, but I didn't want to start lecturing her right there in the tattoo shop. I'm unfamiliar with tattoo shop etiquette but I imagine that the inking chair is not the best place to make such speeches. The shop owner was a shortish dude with a mustache and long light brown hair who was sportin a seventies stoner look. I suppose he was just sportin your average tattoo shop look. Although he had a cheery comportment I could tell that I was raining on some kind of parade.

"Hey mann, sometimes ya gotta just do things in the moment. Ya think too long and nothin ever gets done. Mistakes can always be cleaned up, but life can never be re-lived dood."

I had to admit that there was a lot of wisdom coming out of that little stoner right then and there but it still didn't keep me from suggesting other alternatives to my friend Christina. We had another friend with us so I made the suggestion that we all get matching tattoos to commemorate the trip. My suggestion was something really super small in a barely noticeable place, like perhaps the devil horns logo like smaller than a dime somewhere. That idea was popular for like 3 seconds and then died out. I don't have a tattoo shop personality I don't think.

I ventured off from the group to explore the surroundings. Texans sure do throw a lot of gum on the ground and not just chewed up gum either, like full brightly colored unchewed Chicletes sparkled the ground everywhere I went. The Safeway parking lot was covered in them. I thought about taking pictures of it all but for some reason, pictures of stuff like that is beneath me or something. Something about photographing stuff on the ground just annoys me. Besides, I'm better than everything. I suppose I don't like things that don't have a real process connected with it. "Merely pointing and clicking is never enough for me" I kept thinking and then that phrase got stuck in my head -- "Pointing and clicking is never enough -- pointing and clicking is never enough..." It turned into a song that I'd sing for you right now but you wouldn't hear me because I don't have it set up that way. Too bad for you.

A little later I discovered that my wardrobe was missing and I needed to find some new clothes to wear. All I wanted was my regular suit wardrobe but suits were nowhere to be found. I was complaining about a shirt I was slipping over my head and that it had no pockets but once I got it down I realized that it DID have pockets. -- Why was I complaining about no pockets in the first place? I really hated the Che Guevara guerilla military garb that I was wearing, I looked in the mirror and I looked like a total idiot. Luckily, I had a nice pinstripe suit underneath it all. How did I forget about that? The pinstripe suit was great. Everyone loved it and things were back to normal.

That stoner tattoo dude was right, I wish I would have done the tattoo. I mean I could always fix it later.