OCR Text |
Show 133 Blake had a lot of tattoos on his body. I liked the railroad spike tattoos on his shins the best because I liked trains and because the shin is the ultimate skateboarder tattoo as far as body location. He also had two half sleeves, the more colorful one on his left arm. I never paid a lot of attention to the individual parts of that tattoo, but as a whole I knew it looked like a waterfall flowing down onto a pink lotus flower near his elbow. Besides the water and the flower, all I could remember of Blake's sleeve was the color: red lines following the curves of the water, dark green blurring into black on the outside. I liked the idea that someone might be walking around with his tattooed skin. Blake once told me that one of the things he liked best about tattoos was the way they map a person's life-for him, there was nothing sad about a straight edge tattoo on someone smoking a cigarette, or the name of a long irrelevant lover on someone's arm because of the way it was honest about the past. He liked all of that, and I loved the vision of someone walking down the street with a secondhand lotus flower on his arm. At 3:30 two intoxicated twenty year-olds in cowboy hats walked into 7-11. They asked me what it was like to work there and asked if I saw some crazy shit. I told them that that night I had seen a sober middle aged-guy and a teenager having problems with "chicks." They said that sounded boring and one of them showed me her "country dance" without my asking. I didn't have a lot of response to that and they bought some beef jerky and energy drinks and left. |