His name was Nick, and he was the self-proclaimed "Tattoo-Boss" of
St.Petersburg. When we buzzed in, the hitman/bodyguard that answered the
door packed a .38 in a brown leather shoulder holster.
I watched "The Wall" to the droning buzz of Misha getting his tattoo,
then it was my turn. It wasn't a studio, so much as it was,
well, his kitchen, but my last tattoo was done on some guy's front porch
in Obetz, Ohio.
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