Friday, November 7, 2008

Tattoos Give You Power

After years of wanting a tattoo, I finally got one. It's a cool dragon with flames wrapped around a sword. I got it on the underside of my forearm.

I had always wondered why tattoos are cool. Now I finally know. They must be imbued with some sort of special power. When I have a tattoo I am not afraid to holla at some cute girl. I don't care how many bullets they shoot at me. And I even talk back to night club bouncers.

Yesterday night I went out with Sonny's girl and her friends. Sonny wasn't jealous; we have a very open and understanding relationship. A bouncer cuts directly between me and the girl I'm dancing with. That's just bad etiquette. You can cut between a group that is talking, or rub against someone as you're passing them, but you don't push yourself through two who are people dancing.

So I simply asked, "Yo man what's the deal?"

To which he immediately responded, "You got a F***** problem, bitch?!" (Bitch is less severe than an f-bomb in my mind)

I told him I have no problem, just wondering why he pushed through me like that. Apparently he took that as a window for more pushing, but this kind was more deliberate. He also threw a light punch--either he's weak or he just wasn't intending to hurt me--that connected with my cheek.

The head of security came over to see what was going on. I rejoined my friends, but couldn't help but laugh obnoxiously at the whole situation. Our friend the bouncer didn't like this. He kept staring me down, until I did the unthinkable and gave him a little wave.

This sent him into a flurry of rage for some reason, where he came over, shoved me a few times, and then put me in a headlock and started pulling me towards the entrance. I just threw my hands up in the air to show that I wasn't doing anything; and I was laughing. A lot.

Another bouncer pulled him off me but then continued to lead me towards the exit, where he reached up and ripped my armband off my wrist so that I couldn't re-enter. Upon exiting I immediately sought out the cops and reported the incident. Because I didn't slur or curse and actually used some larger vocabulary words I think they took the incident more seriously.

The moral of the story is that because I had a tattoo I didn't care what the bouncer did. I could laugh in the face of "danger" and keep a cool head.

My only concern is what will happen in a few days when it rubs off all the way.

1 comment:

The cup is half full of something I don't like said...

Try walking around with stick on Hello Kitty and Dora the Explorer tattoos.

Think you don't give a crap with a dragon on your arm. I went out with Snow White on one arm, Prince Eric on the other and a forgotten flower by one ear. I also was wearing an anklet made out of really big bright plastic beads. No one and I mean no one dared look me in my eye.