San Francisco's Lombard Street is world-famous for its twists and turns. We made our way up to the top. The homes gracing this slippery serpent are fantastic to behold. And while I always appreciate beautiful architecture, today I'm distracted and anxious to get to the bottom of this curvaceous landmark. For at the bottom of this hill is the Tattoo Art Museum, and today I am going to make my mark.
We find a parking spot right out front. We enter and realize we have the place to ourselves. There are two people behind the counter, a friendly looking brown-haired guy and a very tall, very thin, exotic-looking blonde. We take a look around at all the cool tattoo memorabilia, dating back to the 1800's. This, I think, is the perfect place for me to get a tattoo. I approach the woman behind the counter. I explain to her what I want done. She stares at me intently. It's my honeymoon, I tell her. I took his name, but don't want to lose mine. Could she design a champagne bottle, maybe with a flowery label? She answers me in a heavy German accent.
“Jah. I think I can do that.”
A few minutes later, she shows me her work. It's perfect. A small black champagne bottle with a pink poinsettia at its center.
“Let's do it!” I say.
She begins to work and the sizzling, pleasurable pain begins. The music (isn't it always about the music?) as usual, adds to the ever growing soundtrack of my life.
I say to the guy behind the counter, “Hey, listen to this song! You gotta tell me who it is!”
He cocks an ear towards the speaker.
“Woah! It's perfect, aint it?” He says.
I'm stupidly grinning through the pain.
“The song's called, Pink Champagne, by Joe Liggins and His Honeydrippers."
Need I say more?
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