This is a long one so sit down.
My sexy man thing and I found out about this tattoo parlor/ art gallery at an art party the night of our third anniversary. They were tattooing for free (a promotional idea perhaps?) and after checking out their set up and what not we signed up to each receive a tattoo around 12:30 that night. When we were signing up we informed them that we needed to be done at our designated times as we had to catch the last BART home and were not dressed to spend the night on the streets of San Francisco.
At that point we had seen all there was to see in the galleries and were simply cooling our heels until midnight when we could go start waiting our turn to get inked. When midnight rolled around we meandered over to where the tattooing was being done and sat down quietly to wait our turns like good little children as everyone else drunkenly milled around. The person who had helped me get signed up informed us that they were a bit behind, but she reassured us that she would get us in. She in fact promised she would make sure we'd get in because it was our anniversary and she respected that.
So we waited, 12:30 came and went with continued reassurance that we'd get in, 1 o'clock came and went taking our last train with it, but we said fuck it, as long as our wait was worth it (we'll find an all night diner or something). Around 1:10 the artist we were sitting nearest to, Andrew Mann, turned to us and said "are you guys waiting to get tattooed?" (no, you're just so fascinating) to which we replied "yes". They then seemed to have a huddle about the schedule and we were informed we could come back on Monday and get our tattoos if we wanted them that badly, gob smacked we sputtered about how we had waited for an hour and missed our last train home and now had to find a way to pass 7 hours on the street waiting for BART to reopen et cetera. To our crest fallen gibbering Andrew Mann replied "I don't know you" and walked away.
No to be so easily defeated we went to the women running the front and asked disbelievingly if they were really calling it quits and we were informed that the artists were tired and that we could come back Monday and the tattoo would still be free. We were impatiently apologized to and told they didn't know how they got so far behind, I can tell them how at least Andrew got behind: no time management skills. I watched him sit and chat with people when he should have just told them he was swamped and couldn't talk. The woman who had promised to make sure we got done let us know she couldn't control the artists and didn't mean to "fuck us over". My advice to everyone is not to make promises you can't keep and if you fucked someone over and they know you didn't mean to, don't condescend to inform them.
I digress.
Disappointed we wrote our contact information down and went to spend time deciding how to get home.
Clearly we got home. And shortly there after realized we didn't know where to go: the art gallery in San Francisco? Their parlor in Oakland? The moon? They didn't tell us. So we found their information and called to see what we should do. The first time we called the person up front told us to call back in an hour when there would be an artist in to make an appointment with. After an hour we called back, no answer... An hour and a half passes, we call back: no answer. We repeated this pattern until we finally got a hold of Andrew Mann the next day who obliged to squeeze us in on Friday at six. The cherry on top of that was when I asked my fiancé if Friday around six was good Andrew snapped into my ear "Not around six, at six".
So I made a point to stroll into Old Crow at 5:45 sharp. Some of the art was very cool, some of it was a bit garish, and there was one big god awful piece. By the way kids, art gallery + tattoo parlor is not a revolutionary concept. 6 o'clock came with no sign of Andrew, 6:30....7 o'clock...7:30(an hour and a half late? after making a point over the phone to be on time?) and finally he saunters to the front to come consult with the lowly promotional spill over.
He decided to take my fiancé back first as I apparently made him nervous and while I waited I got to talk to Philip Milic, who seemed to be a pretty cool guy even though he brings his snappy chihuahua to work with him. I can spell law suit waiting to happen, can he?
Andrew loaded his machine with out my looking, but I'll bet the money we tipped he didn't check the needle for barbs and I noticed after he started that he hadn't bagged the gun. As he already admitted I made him nervous and he was tattooing I didn't say anything for the sake of my arm but how icky and unprofessional.
In the end one may ask why I even got my tattoo and my answer is because a tattoo without a story is worthless.
Good job if you read all of this. read more