J: Man, some tattoos are just a bad idea.
Steph: I know. Did I ever tell you about Milo’s tattoos?
J: The “Churning Butter” guy?
Steph: Hee, yeah. We were outside smoking one night and he was held out his forearms, and he said, “You know what I’ve always wanted to do? Tattoo a huuuuge question mark on one arm and an exclamation point on the other.”
J: Heh. WHY?
Steph: Karl told me it had to do with some scary psychedelic philosopher guy… he’s explained this to me like five times and I still don’t get it. But anyway, Milo was a lawyer, and he said he wanted to be the “cool lawyer” who rolls up his sleeves, flashes his huge tats, and then breaks down your situation. Or something.
J: I would love it if my lawyer had huge sleeves of tattoos.
Steph: I know. But…
J: Yeah. It’s kind of cool, but it’s kind of like, “Okay…”
Steph: Right. So he tells me about the tattoos, and he was like, “I think it would be sooo awesome. What do you think?” And I said, “Yeah, I guess that’d be cool…” and then I changed the subject. And a few weeks later, he showed up and was all, “Guess what?”
J: Ooooh no.
Steph: Oh, yes. He had a big-ass question mark and a big-ass exclamation point on his arms. And as an English major, I secretly liked it a lot. And everyone had a different opinion about it, but when he left the room a couple of people were like, “What the fuck?” and I felt really guilty.
J: Like it was your fault because you told him it would be cool?
Steph: Yes.
J: But you didn’t think it was cool, did you. You lied to him to be nice, and now he has weird tattoos and it’s all your fault.
Steph: Exactly! I mean, I’m sure he told other people about his idea. And I think there were other people outside when he told me this. But I felt responsible somehow.
J: See, you’re too nice.
Steph: Nah, I’ve been kind of a dick lately.
J: No, no. You think you are, but you’re not. Trust me. You are way too nice. And it’s becoming a problem. Tattoos are just the beginning. We need to work on your niceness.
Steph: How?
J: Hey Stephie, I think I want to get a cool tattoo…
Steph: …
J: Say, “Of what?”
Steph: *sigh* Of what?
J: There you go! Okay, I want to get a tattoo of… of a… of a huge asterisk.
Steph: That would be AWESOME!
J: Jesus.
Steph: No really! I love asterisks! I love the way they look and their purpose in life and everything! I use them all the time! I would totally get that tattoo!
J: Okay, now we’re going to switch this up: I’m going to be you and tell you what you should have just said to me. Except I’m really me and I’m being completely serious when I say this to you. Don’t get that tattoo.
Steph: Why?
J: Because I was trying to think of a really bad tattoo, but we were just talking about punctuation so I’m stuck on that.
Steph: You can’t think of worse tattoos?
J: No, I guess I could. But an asterisk would still be lame. Oh, and you know why? People will think it’s a Red Hot Chili Peppers tattoo.
Steph: I could tell them what it is. It could be worse. I like the Chili Peppers.
J: Me too, but do you LOVE the Chili Peppers? Enough for people to even think that you have a Chili Peppers Tattoo?
Steph: Not really.
J: Exactly. And what if someone in the band goes crazy or something? What about all those poor people with Michael Jackson tattoos?
Steph: Haha. But do you know about the Chili Peppers logo?
J: It’s like an asterisk right?
Steph: That’s what it looks like. But you know what it really is?
J: What?
Steph: Guess.
J: Is it like a Native American symbol or something?
Steph: No.
J: A tiny little bomb? A baby firework?
Steph: No.
J: A star for people who can’t draw stars? That’s what it is, right? That’s how I draw stars. What is it?
Steph: …
J: TELL ME!
Steph: Kurt Vonnegut’s asshole.
(beat)
J: What?
Steph: It’s Kurt Vonnegut’s asshole.
J: WHAT?
Steph: You know how he does all those drawrings?
J: Yeah.
Steph: Well, he drew an asshole once. And now he draws it under his name sometimes, like when he signs autographs.
J: So it’s kind of a self portrait of his asshole.
Steph: Right. And the Chili Peppers saw it and based their logo off of that.
J: I don’t believe you.
Steph: I’ll send you the link to where I read that. And hey, do you have Breakfast of Champions?
J: Of course.
Steph: Okay. Do you have the paperback one? One of those newer ones with the big V?
J: Yes.
Steph: Okay. Turn to page 72.
J: All right. Hold on.
(beat)
J: *gasp*
Steph: See?
J: Whoa.
Steph: I know.
J: WHOA.
Steph: I KNOW.
J: Stephie.
Steph: J.
J: I love you.
Steph: Hee. And how much do you love the Chili Peppers?
J: A lot more than I thought I did. But you still can’t get the asterisk ass tattoo. I mean it.
When a band wants to become synonymous with a picture of your asshole, I think it’s safe to say that you’re the greatest writer of all time.
You guys really need to read Breakfast of Champions. There’s a drawing on almost every page. There are also words. Lots of good ones arranged in a fantastic order.
And seriously, how cute would a Times New Roman asterisk be on my big toe?
Secretly Stephie 