i don’t smoke,but i do love the smell,along with the general horseplay that surrounds these affairs.a load of men ascend into the desert from the surrounding areas of los angeles and san diego for the weekend…leather-ish midnight cowboys,who on the surface seem awfully gnarly,yet turn out to be a fun loving laid back crowd.
so the organisers hire a resort/compound type place,and as the sun goes down,the night oils itself in all the inevitable ways…my favourite moment was sitting in the shade, perched on an unemployed masseurs table in the veranda by a small swimming pool.this glorious moment wasn’t about what i would see,but more about the combination of things i’d be hearing.in one of the rooms adjoined to the veranda, i could hear a drill….a tattooists drill…which sounds exactly like a dentists drill.it would stop and start between loud protesting moans of pain,and unbridled bursts of laughter…whatever that tattoo was,i figured it must be a fairly hefty one,cause the drilling,laughing,and moaning seemed to go on forever.behind the glorious sounds of that were shards of music drifting in and out of the early evening…boom boom coming from passing or parking cars outside the walls of the compound,overlaying the piped music from within the fortress.this curious blurry mosaic of james taylor ‘you’ve got a friend’ sweetly gatecrashing against some boomy faceless dancetrack…and then there was the smell…not just cigars,but someone close by smoking pipe tobacco…that intensely sweet vanilla aroma…gorgeous….the whole thing is a truly welcome assault on my senses,and i feel very lucky to be there.
my imagination starts guessing what kind of tattoo is rendering inside that nearby room.i made a bet with a perfect stranger that it was surely happening somewhere very tender,cause of the sincere howls coming from the client.maybe the inside part of the arm….or maybe it’s just really sore getting any kind of tattoo anyway.all was revealed when he appeared from the room…naked.turns out he had two done…one on his shoulder of a traffic motorway sign,and the other……he parted his arse cheeks to reveal a blazing sun inked around his dear little sphincter.
swear to god, and god give me biscuits…
mary of the wilderness.