So last night, I went to Tatto Gig, not really knowing what to expect. After locating the bar, I walked up a flight of steps and was confronted by two heavily tattooed Japanese women. Upon seeing them, I figured I was in the right spot.
I had seen posters around town advertising the event and I could have sworn the price of admission was either $25.00 or $30.00 at the door. Either way, they charged me $40.00 and that got me a free drink. I wasn`t too keen on the cover but I was bored and so I paid it and went in.
The inside of the bar was laid out kind of like an aisle in a store. On either side of the place there were booths set up and guys were getting ink done by various artists from Kyoto and Osaka. At the end of the aisle was a stage and a DJ spinning on it. The place was dimly lit and wreaked of smoke. The kind of smell that sticks in your clothing.
Anywho, I went to the bar and got my free beer and proceeded to walk around and check out the tattoos. I was very very tempted to get another one but all of the artists were busy and did not show signs of taking on any new customers any time soon. Within five minutes of me walking through the door, a guy walked up behind me and wanted to know where I was from. I told him I was American and he asked if I was an English teacher. I told him yes and then he ventured to the next logical question given the situation, do you like tattoos. I told him I did and then he wanted to know whether I had any. I told him I had three and at that point he demanded to see them. So I rolled up my sleeve and showed him my Evil Homer tat and then showed him my shoulders. He was kind of cracking up but really liked my Homer so he told me to stay where I was and he would be right back. After a few seconds, he returned with another guy who also asked to see my arm and upon seeing it, asked me to follow him. I hoped I was getting a free tat on account of my badass Homer ink but instead, I was being led to a photographer. The guy leading me asked if I would be okay with them taking some pics of my Evil Homer and I said that was cool. Within a few minutes, a professional photographer had snapped pics of a funny tattoo on the only white guy in the place and both of them seemed very pleased. After this, they thanked me and let me go back to looking around.
I had been looking for a few minutes when the music stopped and someone thank everyone for coming and then introduced a couple of women. The DJ started up again and the two women began to dance. Break dancing, micro-mini-skirts, suggestive moves, hot Japanese women. Yup, nuff` said.
Anywho, the semi-decent DJ quit spinning after a bit and another DJ replaced him and began mixing this weird, surf rock, punk, 50s sounding stuff. That is where it went downhill. The Japanese love surf rock and aggressive guitars and drum beats. I however, am not a fan. So after taking in an hour and a half of smoke, tattoos, and loud music, I departed, leaving behind a bar full of mostly men and yakuza members all singing along to the Japanese surf punk that was churning from the speakers.
It was an interesting experience, though it really wasn`t worth $40 but it was an experience nonetheless. Anywho, no new tattoos unfortunately and no hot tattooed Japanese women following me home. So I did what any single, half-decent looking, American guy does when living alone in Japan. I went home and sorted through my MP3 collection. Hmm...maybe I should have added nerdy to that last description.